A Past Nightmare's Shadow
by EverHopeful
Summary: Everything they knew, everything they thought they knew is gone and the past's heroes are dead. A story about hope and determination in the face of an evil they thought was buried and a story bigger than them all.Trigger warnings inside. AU.
1. The Dead Cop and The Missing Girl

Alright folks. First story in a long time. I'm going to save most of my yapping for the end. This is here for one reason.

TRIGGER WARNING

This story will delve into dark and unfriendly places. For plot reasons I can't reveal the specific nature of the content. I can list some forms that do not appear: Racism and Eating Disorders. You are duly advised that if you suffer from any form of PTSD this story may trigger you off. You have been warned.

END TRIGGER WARNING

* * *

Kairi woke to a feeling of incredible warmth. Beneath their shared covers she could feel Sora's arm draped over her, holding her to him. The sun streamed in through the window, casting a golden glow around the whole moment. Cocooned in the sheets, Sora, and sunlight, Kairi felt happiness settle over her like a blanket. This moment, right here, was utterly perfect. Waking up next to Sora was something relatively new to her. They had only been living together a month and the feeling of utter contentment every morning hadn't slipped. And having thought of the man, she rolled over to find his cerulean eyes staring right back at her.

"Good morning." His words conveyed so much love and affection that they took Kairi's breath away. It was a habit of his that she'd always admired.

"Good morning." She tried to do the same, but didn't quite pull it off.

"You seem happy." They stretched languidly before settling back into a loving embrace.

"It's a good day, I can feel it."

"Have I told you how much I love you today?"

"No, although you did tell me yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, you're staring to get repetitive," she said with a giggle

"Ah well, with a girl as special as you, it needs to be said."

"Sora, you always know how to make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world."

"I already know I'm the luckiest guy," He said with more than a hint of self-mockery.

"Alright, cheese ball, now you're pushing it."

"Well if that's how you feel," He tried to feign sadness but his eyes gave away a smile beneath the surface. And then he just gave way and started laughing. She had to join in, his laugh was infectious and heart warming. Eventually their giggles lapsed into the happy silence of staring into each other's eyes. It was this fleeting and eternal happy moment that Kairi would remember over the coming months. It would be a long time before either of them felt happiness like this again.

* * *

Dreams of burning buildings and screaming ceased, interrupted by a well known sound. His lifeline saved him one again. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. Leon woke on the second ring and had it in his hands by the third. Being the top detective at the local station, this was second nature. He hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in longer than he could remember and he knew for a fact he hadn't had more than one in a row in the last eighteen years, though that was due to his nightmares. There was always something someone wanted or wanted to know. It helped that Leon didn't like sleeping much. Or that at the moment it was around noon.

"Hello?"

"Leon, it's Mickey." Leon checked his bedside clock, it read in it's big, comforting luminescent way, 12:07.

"Chief, you know what time it is?" The joke fell flat.

"Yeah, you need to hear this one."

"What's happened?"

"It's Vince..."

"What did he turn up drunk again?"

"No, he's dead." There were a few seconds pause as Leon digested this.

"Shit, really?"

"Yeah."

"Was it an accident or...?"

"Leon, he killed himself, you're going to want to see why."

"I... I'll be right there."

"Don't drive too fast and break your neck, we really need you."

"I won't chief."

"I'm sorry it had to be like this."

"Yeah, me too." and then the line went dead.

For every call like this Leon had taken in the past 18 years, Leon prided himself on his ability to be dressed and out the door in under five minutes. This time he just sat in place while his internal timer rang out and tears ran down his cheeks. There was time for his job later, time for revenge.

His last friend was dead.

* * *

Leon arrived at Vincent Valentine's residence fifteen minutes after he got the call. It was usual crime scene stuff. Police vehicles casting red and blue glare, the inevitable and blessed cordon. And yet it seemed so out of place in Vince's building. He climbed the same set of stairs, counted the same number of landings and walked the same number of steps to his best friend's door. But inside everything had changed. The forensics team were there for one thing, in their almost comical attire. The chief was just inside the door, waiting.

"Leon, I'm sorry."

But Leon wasn't listening yet, all he had eyes for was Vince, slumped over his crappy imitation wood table, with a finished glass of whiskey just out of reach of his left hand, his service revolver just out of reach of his right, and a fine red mist covering the wall behind him. Leon just stood for a moment, letting the sadness wash over him. Vince was gone. He was alone. And the day was far from over.

"Why?" Leon croaked out, eventually.

"This is the hard part Leon."

"Did he leave a note?"

"No," Mickey's face flickered as if pained, "We found something worse."

"How could it possibly be worse?" Leon said sadly.

Without a word, the chief held something up to Leon. A thing from the past. A thing from Leon's nightmares. A thing of horror. A thing of evil. Leon knew the what it was before it was even half way up. Six cards sketched on a piece of paper.

The room suddenly went quiet. In an instant Leon felt more lost and abandoned than he ever had before. These were darker days than the last time. He was alone in a sea of grey, doubt and crushing despair. From a distant, far off place across the water he could hear sobbing. He realised it was him. Then the floor rushed up to meet him and he felt no more.

* * *

That day, Kairi left work at The Thirteenth Street Diner three minutes early. At 4:57 the streets of Trinity city were alive with busy people. As she crossed the threshold of the place she felt a chill pass through her, but couldn't place why. It was a five block walk to the apartment. The first block was along Thirteenth Street itself, as she reached the end of this first leg of her journey she failed to notice a van peel out of a parking bay right outside the café and trace her path. Though why would she? The sun was shining after all, and the day was still warm. She could only think of the warmth of that morning, and what awaited her at home. And it was a busy street. Though it's cross street, Fourth Avenue was not quite so busy. She turned left at the end of the block like she always had. The van followed, turning the corner and shooting ahead to the parking near the end of the block. This time Kairi saw it as it passed, but didn't notice it. After all, how many white panel-vans do you see everyday? Kairi kept walking, shoes beating a breathless rhythm against the pavement. For the next leg of her journey home, Kairi turned right, onto Twelfth Street street and keep walking. Twelfth ends in a cul-de-sac at the end of the block, so when the van drove past Kairi this time, she noticed. But she didn't feel nervous yet, at least not consciously. This time the van stopped right at the dead end, in front of the loading dock of a courier service office. This wasn't in the least bit suspicious because unfortunately for Kairi, this company used unmarked white vans for delivery. As a consequence of having walked this route four times a week for the past month she knew this, and as such wasn't on guard. But having noticed the van she walked straight into an elderly man. Apologising profusely, she continued on. She was now two blocks from home. All she had to do was take the alley that ran from twelfth to eleventh and walk the remaining distance to the apartment building. But she never made it home.

The alley wasn't particularly narrow, it was easily wide enough for a car, or at a stretch a car and a pedestrian. It had always made Kairi nervous though, for one, there were no windows that overlooked the stretch of pavement. For another, it curved in such a way that for a significant stretch, she was completely hidden from both entrances. One company had wanted a convex building, the other a concave. The result was an outright terrifying stretch of almost deserted walkway. They'd done it up with lights and zebra striping but almost no one used it. Kairi had seen precious few other people here. On this day, there was no one else. As the entrance faded from view she quickened her stride. Then she heard an engine, coming closer. She started jogging, but as always the vehicle was faster, she hugged the right wall of the alley to prevent herself from being run over. The white van that had been following her sped past her left side and stopped in front of her, swerving slightly so it blocked the alley. In a blind panic now, Kairi turned around and sprinted, behind her she heard the van's door open, fast footsteps and then a hand on the back of her neck jerked her backward, she felt a sting in the side of her neck followed by an almost immediate burning in her neck and right throughout her body. She felt all her strength drain, and whoever had arrived in the van grab her and haul her backwards by her armpits. Before her eyes closed under the lead weight which they seemed to have taken she got one lingering glance at the sky.

It would be the last she saw of it for some time.

* * *

Alright. You made it through? Good.

Let's talk.

My last posted story was written 6 years ago. During that time I've changed. This story will be dark and edgy and in places evil. If this chapter went down badly, every other chapter for a while is going to get worse. So leave now.

A further note. I have ridiculous standards for myself and limited and stunted writing experience. I will update infrequently, I cannot promise an update every day, or even every second day, or possibly even every week. I want to make sure every chapter is the best it can be. And yes, it is kind of cruel of me to post this with only one chapter written. However this story sits badly inside me, it weighs on me. I've got to get it out. I'm also starting Uni, next week is orientation. So yes, I picked a bad time but I've been trying for so long to get up the courage to publish something that I don't want to lose momentum.

One more thing. I am trying to keep this story as true to life as possible. Some of it will strain belief, but otherwise, techniques, items and other things described are researched and quite real. Hope this doesn't keep you up at night.

So, Read, Review and Most Importantly: Enjoy.

If you have any queries, drop me a PM.

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83


	2. The Despairing and The Imprisoned

Alright, I like to keep the stuff at the start short, so all my author comments will be at the end. This is here in case you were inclined to not listen to the warning at the start of the last chapter. The trigger content starts this chapter. That is if the abduction last chapter didn't get you already. You have been warned.

Also, graphic violence and adult theme warning. Seriously. In case you're unprepared for what comes next, don't say I didn't warn you.

* * *

Thud... Thud... Thud. Sora's pacing beat out a marching drumbeat on the wooden floor of the apartment. He tried to distract himself, tried to concentrate, tried to do anything to keep his mind off his worries. Kairi was late. Far too late. He once more tried to convince himself that she was simply out a bit late and would walk through the door at any moment. He'd tried calling her, and her phone had rung out. Seven times. Sora liked to think of himself as a calm, reasonable individual. But tonight he was two people, one a panicky, scared man in denial and the other a cold voice in the back of his head ripping the first man's arguments to shreds.

"It's nothing to worry about, she's been late before," _But she always called._

"She could be out with her friends," _She would have called._

"She could have gone shopping," _And she's still out at 10:30? You and I know something is very wrong here. Panic little man, bad things are happening. _

Sora found the couch through a dark haze, and sat down. Head in his hands he wanted to cry. In a desperate effort to distract himself from a growing sense of despair and powerlessness he turned on the TV. It opened straight on to a romantic comedy. Eyes burning he flipped the channel and got the news. That industry standard same-feel guy who reads for every channel, with his industry specified haircut and industry specified solemn look on his face was talking in industry specified tones about a murder, no wait a suicide. Some cop by the name of Vincent Valentine. Apparently he'd been a hero, decorated for his efforts in saving he city from a serial-something or other. Several old photos were shown featuring Vincent and a bunch of other cops. Then they brought in a man identified as the chief of police, Mickey King. Try as he might, Sora just couldn't get into the tragedy vibe largely due to his own worries. It was weird that a simple suicide was receiving so much attention though. This got him thinking about what he could do. And Kairi. And all the bad things that could be happening to her. And despair just sunk in deeper. He tried to think of something to do. Which he quickly surmised as sit around and be helpless. He couldn't even call the police yet. It was too early. Then he decided he would go looking. He didn't hold much hope, but it was better than doing nothing. He flicked off the TV just as it was showing a photograph of handsome man in his late 30's with brown hair and a scar across his face. The face dissolved into black as Sora bolted out the door, not even thinking of locking it.

It would be a long, sleepless, frustrating night for Sora.

* * *

"I can't believe he's back."

Leon had been dragged outside at sometime during his brief sojourn in the land of the unconscious. He'd awoken on a stretcher, to Mickey's concerned face watching over him.

Things felt grim indeed. When he'd fainted, he'd been tormented by visions of burning tarot cards. In particular the hanged man wouldn't leave him alone. At least he didn't have to worry about drowning. The very thought of it brought a sad half-smile to his face.

"We got him before Leon, we can do it again," Mickey said in his best reassuring chief impersonation.

"Did we? Last time I seem to recall he had the last laugh," A grimace stole briefly over Mickey's face.

"Yeah I know, I was hoping you didn't though."

"I never left that warehouse boss, part of me burns there every night."

Mickey just looked uncomfortable, the older man knew of Leon's problems. He'd requisitioned every possible form of treatment. But what Leon had been through would have killed a lesser man. In then end all Mickey could do for him was let him work. Leon had always been motivated, but since that fateful day he's been driven like there was a demon on heels. In a way there was.

These days Leon worked so he wouldn't have to think, and he was damn good at what he did. But these days, Leon could never do enough. And he had no-one. He'd bordered on being a hermit back when he had Vince as well. Who knew how he'd get on now.

An uncomfortable silence fell between Trinity City's last hero and the only man he trusted. An eternity and several seconds later, Leon spoke.

"Chief, I want to go after him, I want revenge." There was steel in Leon's voice.

"Leon, you're the only one that can get near him now and he knows it, I could throw every one else in my command at him and all I'd get is the media up my arse and a lot of happy funeral directors. I just don't want you hurting yourself. You need someone to reign you in and I've got a someone in mind. I don't care if you like it, do it for me. I'm not trying to replace Vince, no-one could, but you need someone nearby to prevent you from getting yourself killed."

Leon spluttered a few times during the talk, but in the end agreed with the chief. And he didn't want to fight the only person he had left. He wanted revenge. Not just for Vince, for Zack and Aerith, for Cloud, for Seph. He was all that was left to see it through.

Mickey surmised from his expression his opinion on the matter, "Glad you agree, you start tomorrow."

"No, chief, I'm staring right now," Purpose coursed through Leon's veins. He had to do something, and he had to do it now.

"I had a feeling you'd say that," Mickey shook his head slowly. Whether it came from sadness or pride, Leon had no idea.

* * *

When Kairi awoke, it was to a feeling of drowsiness. It wore off far faster than she would have liked it to. Her first thought was that her surroundings did not offer much hope for the immediate future. She was in a cell. That much was obvious. The cell was lit by a flickering light bulb. There was no pattern to when it flickered either. This light was both quite annoying and not as illuminating as her other discoveries.

She also knew she was in a basement. The stone walls and obvious floor support beams above told her so. She was as sure of it as she was of the hard concrete beneath her feet. She couldn't leave, that much was clear as well. She could see a stairway out, but it was separated from her by a locked chain link cage. And when she tried to cross the room to investigate, she was stopped by a sudden pull on her neck that choked her. When she stepped back a bit a looked down two very important discoveries arose, the first being that whoever was keeping her had put her in a collar. It seemed to be a red, leather band around her neck. The choke was supplied by a chain attached to the collar, which was locked to a ring by a padlock. And the ring was hammered into the wall securely, or maybe even set into it during construction.

Her second discovery on looking down told her everything she didn't already know about her captor's motives. She was stripped bare. A shiver ran down her spine that wasn't just the temperature. Though the temperature definitely did not help. It was just cold enough in the cell to be uncomfortable. Her captor had left her some basic necessities at least. Her chain gave her enough room that she had the run of about half the rectangular room, leaving the padlocked cage door tantalisingly out of reach. But within reach, in one corner was a bowl containing water. It was a dog's bowl, but at least it held water. Next to it was a matching food dish containing what looked like dog food. Initially the thought of eating it repulsed her but she suspected it was all she would get. And she had no idea how long she'd be here. In the other corner was an empty bucket and a newspaper. The bucket she figured out and used almost immediately, albeit uncomfortably. The newspaper took her a bit longer to work out. It was in another language, possibly Mandarin, so she couldn't even read it to alleviate the boredom. And in between was a dingy looking foam mattress with a blanket that looked like it wouldn't even cover her body. It was here she eventually settled back to the wall, knees pulled up to her chest, wondering what and when her captor was going to do to her. She didn't have to wait long to find out. Unfortunately.

About an hour after Kairi had awoken, she heard loud footfall overhead._ Whoever has got me is finally here,_ She thought and not without trepidation. Imagining what her captors wanted had been tearing her apart. To her it seemed that knowing your going to be raped was worse than actually being raped. And the fact there was hope made it many times worse. As long as her captor's intentions remained unannounced she was free to pretend in her heart of hearts that they wanted her for money, or for interrogation. It didn't ring particularly true, especially since they had taken her clothes. But it was some comfort, probably more destructive than helpful but it couldn't be shut out. Quick footsteps on the stairs. She had decided she was going to be aggressive. Try and startle them out of their train of thought. She prepared herself mentally for the biggest, ugliest thing that could possibly come down the stairs. She would soon understand that she was caught in an evil trap indeed.

A figure came down the stairs, black boots, black pants, black jacket, black shirt, white tie. She couldn't yet see their face, but his choice of dress chilled her. A thought occurred to her, why would he/she/it dress up if it was just going to rape her? The important part of this outfit escaped her until later. And then it emerged into the cage, she stood and took a few tentative steps towards the cage entrance. And she had an irrational spike of mirth when she saw the not-face looking back. They had a mask on. A smiley face mask. The façade of the mask was a cheerful yellow colour, with a curved, black line smile painted on beneath the eyes. It was both hilarious and unnerving. There was a click as the cage unlocked. She steeled herself to attack.

"What do you want with me?" She demanded. The smiler seemed not to hear and started towards her. She stood her ground.

"Why have you taken me?" She yelled at the advancing horror. It continued towards her unperturbed.

As the masked person stepped toe-to-toe with her, she figured out they were about a head and a half taller than her. She opened her mouth one last time, and in a small voice squeaked out,

"What do you want?" And that was all she managed, before a stinging backhanded slap to her right cheek snapped her head right around. She squealed in pain. He body turned halfway around from the force of the blow. Another sharp, forceful blow that felt boot shaped caught her in the back and she went sprawling to her hand and knees before her captor. He felt the figure drop to their knees behind her, and then she heard what she had been dreading, what she had known but had denied was coming. It was all the worse for the denial. She heard the undoing of a zipper. Her blood suddenly turned to ice. She tried to protest but she seemed to temporarily have lost her voice, all she could manage was to croak out, "No...".

When he took her that first time, it was without ceremony or emotion. Without gloating and in fact without conversation. He thrust into her, all business. She croaked out a stream of "No, please, no, no" and other such inconsequentialities to such a man as the one she found herself at the mercy of. She definitely now knew the thing behind her was male, though she severely doubted it's humanity And he predictably ignored her. He refused to respond to her in any way. In that opening slap he had broken all the fight in her. Later, she wouldn't be able to remember much. Right now, it felt like it was happening to another impossibly red-headed girl and not to her. Not his painful intrusion, nor his hand entwined in her hair cruelly yanking it back. Or his hated, disgusting hand on her breast. She wouldn't remember any of it later.

Except for one thing. It was the moment he left her alone. He had finished his dark deed by filling her with his demonic, evil heat. When he was done pumping her full of his hated seed, he withdrew and left with the same determination and unerring purpose with which he had arrived. All she would remember for the longest time was croaking out one last "Why?" Before his footfalls faded up the stairs leaving her broken, crying and bleeding to draw herself into the foetal position and throw up all over the floor.

* * *

Foreshadowing, angst and pain. A few of my favourite writing tools.

Look, I know it's a full week since Chapter 1. I did warn you. I've been busy. Regardless, I apologise for the wait, but can't promise it won't happen again. Ensuring a time interval for my writing is beyond my capabilities for now.

On a note that every fan fiction author can identify with, I know that one very vague chapter isn't much to go on and I'm giving nothing about the scope of this story away, but I really would like to know what someone thinks of the damn story. A review would be nice, even if it's to tell me I'm being a pompous git.

Oh and if you're here to rage because I failed to warn you about the rape. I did, that was the trigger warning. If you ignored both of those, plus the one in the summary, you don't have a leg to stand on.

So, read, review and most importantly: Enjoy!

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83


	3. The Villain

Woah, long chapter. And late. Very, very late. The rest of what I have to say can wait until the end.

I think I've warned you enough now, so I'll drop the warnings at the start.

* * *

When the smiling demon returned, Kairi was huddled in the corner, hurting, exhausted and terrified.

After he'd left the night before, she'd crawled into the corner, bloodied and broken, and hidden in the safety of her arms. She'd cried. A lot. She'd cried until there were no more tears. She'd cried herself to what should have been asleep. But she hadn't slept. This place wasn't designed for sleep. It was a place of pain and torment. There wasn't a shred of comfort to be had here. The mattress was lumpy and hard. The blanket scratched at the skin. And then there was the light. It wasn't much when you're just living under it. The flickering. But, try and sleep under it. She was confident it was on purpose at this point, that was about the only thing she was confident about in her immediate future. The flickering seemed random, a minute or so of uninterrupted light here, a few seconds of blissful darkness there, but it kept you on guard. Always waiting for the next change, never able to relax. Kept cruelly in the realm of consciousness she was forced to keep living the pain and utter terror of her rape. She couldn't remember exactly what had happened. But the emotional content was enough to make her clutch at her knees with clawed hands.

Here in this place she felt so helpless and vulnerable. She had managed maybe an hour of sleep all night, but had awoken in a cold sweat, what felt like moments later to the hell that was her reality. And while she was awake, her eyes remained fixed on the door, through the cage, at the top of the stairs. And in the few minutes her mind let her forget, she could only think of Sora. Sora who was probably frantic with worry. Sora who had no idea where she was. Beautiful, loving, warm Sora. Who she missed more than anything. And then as if to rub in her fall further, she was suddenly hit with the intense memory of her warmth that morning. If it was indeed that morning, maybe it was yesterday morning or three months ago. Time was meaningless in this room. There was no indication of it's passage, nor any need to keep track of it. Only the pressing weight of a seeming eternity of fear in anticipation of pain.

Finally, the door at the top of the stairs swung open. To Kairi's surprise she felt more relief than fear. The anticipation had come to hold far greater pain than the actual event. Down once more came the demon in the mask who walked like a man. In one hand he held a red plastic bucket. In the other, a black duffel bag. Again, hope reared it's bitch of a head. She knew deep down he was going to hurt her again. Hope told her that he might not, given that his hands were full. She was beginning to realise that hope wasn't necessarily good.

Once more he undid the cage, and locked it behind him. She could barely contain her fear, letting out small squeaks of terror, and moaning "Please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me,". Huddling in the corner, clutching herself, she must have made a pitiful sight indeed. If her demon could feel pity. Then something unexpected happened. Instead of going for her he placed his two burdens by the cage door and walked around to a dark area of the room she hadn't really seen before. She just noticed there was a man sized gap between the cage and the wall, leading to a dark space. He entered. A few seconds later he emerged, dragging a simple chair behind him, a small black metal number with a white plastic seat. He left the chair, back towards her and went back to the stuff he'd brought with him. He retrieved the bucket, and placed it on the floor between her and the chair, inside her "leash" range, her effective living space.

"Here, clean yourself up," His first words to her caught her by surprise, and she flinched as if struck, before realising what had happened. She lifted her head slightly from between her knees and looked at him. His voice was absurdly out of kilter to his overall presence. It was soothing, calming, full of compassion. An angel's voice from the mouth of the devil. The overall effect was very disorientating. He sat down on the chair in reverse, leaning on the back with his arms and watched her, the painted eyes of the mask watching her unblinkingly. She looked at the bucket, but made no move.

"You're going to want to do it while it's still warm," He said plainly. "I won't hurt you until after you're done."

His voice was so soft and beautiful, Kairi found it hard to disbelieve. She eyed him suspiciously, it was impossible to tell if he was telling the truth. It occurred to her that is he wanted to rape her that badly, he would have done it already. Hope surged through her anew, she was beginning to believe she might escape unscathed. Slowly she stood up, stretching her aching and cramped muscles, and furtively, as if she couldn't believe what was happening, walked over to the bucket. It was half-full of water, with soap bubbles in it. Floating inside, was a sponge. Conscious of his eyes on her, she bent over and picked up the sponge. She squeaked when her hand touched the water. It could only have been lukewarm from his description, but fresh from a long, cold night of terror, it felt hot enough to scald her. Her hand lingered in the bucket savouring the warmth. Then, without ceremony, she quickly and efficiently began to scrub herself with the sponge. A lot of dirt came off. She had no idea how she'd got so damn dirty. And with it, warmth seeped back into her bones. It felt amazing. She forgot that he was watching for a couple of minutes of bliss, brought on by a simple pleasure. She especially scrubbed hard between her legs, the blood, and dried semen washed away in what was an almost religious experience. But all too soon, the sponge bath was over, and she stood before him, naked, clean and now shivering from the water and the cold. Without speaking, he reached into the duffel bag, and threw something at her, Kairi flinched away instinctively. It hit the floor in front of her. It was sea blue towel. She prodded it with her toe as if it might bite her. The towel remained inert. She picked it up, nervously and wrapped herself in it for a moment, it was wonderfully soft. She dried herself with it, and then unsure what to do with it, she dropped it to the floor. She knew she wasn't allowed to keep it.

"Keep that close, you might need it," Again the angel decreed, with what sounded like indifference.

"W-why?" She forced out through trembling lips,

He paused for a few seconds, she imagined whatever it was behind the mask smiling, she wondered what kind of smile it was.

"Well, it all depends on how you answer,"

"Answer what?" He didn't answer her, instead he started fishing around in the black bag, she heard a clanking which turned her blood cold for a moment. She saw the barest flash of silver as he stuffed whatever it was into his pocket. Then he got up and dragged the chair towards her. The noise it made was painful to her ears. He eventually placed the chair in the effective centre of her "tether space", turning it away from the wall

"Sit," He said simply, pointing to the chair. She hesitated, knowing whatever transpired next would not be pleasant. Despite the minor kindness he had displayed this morning, she was still his prisoner. He had raped her yesterday, and she was still alive. He may not have been the murdering kind of rapist, but that was as far as her luck went as to the safety of her body in this place. She hovered indecisively, next to the fallen towel.

"This is the moment you learn my most important rule," He seemed to have anticipated her reluctance and prepared speech, taking a step towards her and grabbing her arm in a vice-like grip. "Most of the time, I will offer you a choice. Two ways to do things, the painful way," At this point he grabbed her hair and yanked it cruelly back, "or the more painful way," His voice dropped into a menacing hiss more reflective of his true nature, "I'm going to hurt you, you need to accept this. But if you listen and obey, I can be lenient. Disobey me and I'll destroy you, understand?"

"Y-yes," Kairi stuttered out, biting back the tears she could already feel at the corners of her eyes.

He shoved her forward by the back of her head so she stumbled and almost fell. He chain clanked wildly.

"Sit," He repeated, back to his angelic voice, pointing once more at the chair.

She obeyed. Now she was closer to the chair she saw could see it was a modified design. The original seat had been removed, and replaced with a toilet seat. She wondered why. But her place was not to wonder. Her place was to sit. So she sat. The seat was warm, from when he had been watching her. Her harms hung by her sides, and her back settled against the simple metal bar arrangement that formed the back of the chair.

"Stay," He commanded, and so she did not move. Even though her compulsion was to turn her head as he wandered, without haste or hesitation, around behind her. Then in quick succession she felt one of her arms grabbed, near the wrist, and wrenched around behind her back. Then the other. Kairi thought she heard, very softly, sound of metal on metal throughout the maybe 10 seconds this took. But she wasn't sure until she tried to move her wrists afterwards and found them held by metal bands. Handcuffs. She didn't try to struggle though, it would have been pointless and his threat still rang in her ears.

Almost absent-mindedly, she reflected that he'd been really quick with them, he'd had a lot of experience cuffing people before. She wasn't sure what that meant yet though. Meanwhile, he'd already moved on, she felt something on her ankles, and looked down to see rope around one other legs, tying it to the chair leg. He wasn't as good with knots, so this took a bit longer. He tied them thoroughly, and when she looked down, between her legs, she could just make out that the rope was being threaded through holes in the chair leg that looked cut especially for the job. No chance of slipping free. He seemed to have thought everything out. She fell into despair. Whoever had her, knew what he was doing. She would just have to play along and hope she lived to see Sora again. She really hoped she'd see Sora again. Then she mentally composed herself, trying to keep her thoughts on the present. Hope wouldn't do her any good if she couldn't figure out how to play this creature's game.

Finally, when she was bound to the chair securely. He reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out a riding crop. She shivered, this wasn't good.

"I'm glad you didn't struggle, it really is a shame to harm something as pretty as you, but what that which must be done, will be done. Now, as to the nature of your predicament and the immediate future, we are going to play a game. Well, you're going to play a game," He reached out with the riding crop and tapped her on the right side of her neck. "And we're going to play it every day until you can play it perfectly, am I understood?"

She nodded her head, fearfully in response. He slowly traced the tip of the riding crop down her neck, over the line of her collar bone and onto the sensitive flesh of her right breast.

"Here is how the game is played, I will ask you twenty questions, you will answer twenty questions, every time you get one wrong..." He tapped her breast with the leather tip of the crop, "you get one lash. If you don't answer you get one lash. If you hesitate you get one lash. If you get it right, we move on to the next question. If you get it wrong, I'll ask the question again. After I ask you twenty questions, you may ask me one. I will always answer truthfully for your situation, but what is true for you, may not be true for others. I recommend you choose your questions carefully, do you understand?"

She hesitated, absorbing the situation. Her thoughts were interrupted by a stinging pain in her right forearm. She squealed in pain and fright.

"Y-yes," she got out through clenched teeth. Tears formed in her eyes. He'd hit her hard.

"Good, we will play the game three times, every time we play the price of failure increases. The game will change as we continue. Finally, you should know that the game is for your benefit and not mine. It is your education. I do not enjoy playing the game, but in time you may enjoy it. It is your fault that we have to play the game. Are you ready?"

"Yes," She said, promptly. She was sick to her stomach. This man, in spite of his angelic voice, was obviously a sadist. She stared defiantly up at the obscene parody of human emotion that seemed to stare back. She was confused and scared, he seemed to flip-flop from kindness to sadism at will.

"Alright, let's start easy. What is your name?"

"Kairi Lamb."

A second later there was a flash of movement and she felt a stinging on her forearm. Her teeth clenched and she writhed against her bonds.

"What is your name?

"I told you, Kairi Lamb." Another flash, more pain.

"Let's try again, what is your name?"

"Kairi Lamb." She shouted. He whipped her again. Tears formed in her eyes.

"What is your name?"

"Kairi Lamb." She said rather uncertainly. Again, she felt the sting of the crop, this time on her other arm.

"What is your name?"

"What do you want from me?" She tried. The whip again.

"What is your name?"

"What do you want from me? She yelled back. This time he stung her upper arm.

"What is your name?"

"What do you want?" She whispered. Her upper arm stung again.

"What is your name?"

She hesitated. He stung her.

"What is your name?"

She couldn't think, she wanted to say something but couldn't. He stung her anyway.

"What is your name?"

Tears flowed down her face. What did he want her to say? How could she make the pain stop? Before she could think of anything, he's struck her on the shoulder.

"What is your name? He just kept repeating it, every time his voice got a little louder.

A sob wracked though her body. He stung her.

"What is your name?"

Her eyes blurred with tears as she looked up at him. She said nothing, he hit her again.

"What is your name?"

She started sobbing. He stung her right hip.

"What is your name?"

"K-Kairi Lamb." She tried one last time, weakly. It was a sad moment in time. It would be the last time she heard those words spoken aloud for a long time.

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?" He was yelling now. She couldn't think straight, everything came through a haze of pain and fear.

"I don't know what you want me to say." She complained in a broken voice. Another violent flash and she felt the bite of the whip.

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"

"What do you want me to say?" The whip bit into her right flank.

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"

"I don't know." It burst out of her mouth before she could even think. She just wanted it to end. Her sobbing became uncontrollable. Another strike to her flank.

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know." She babbled, he loomed over her. This time she screamed as he struck her breast.

"What is your name?"

She just cried and cried. A scream escaped her as the whip bit her breast again. And then she cried some more, jerking and writhing in her bonds. After some time, she realised the whip hadn't struck. She looked up at him, he had his hands on his hips and the grotesque smile looked back.

"It's your turn," He said patiently.

His voice was a mockery. How could it come from a man so vile?

She already knew what she was going to ask. How could she not?

"What's my name?" She said in a small broken voice.

"That," He replied, "is a trick question. You don't have a name. Names are for people. You aren't a person."

She felt immense sadness wash over her. But she found she'd run out of room for despair. She just listened with her head hung, straining her bonds.

"Right," he said cheerfully, "on to round two,"

She nodded, feeling overwhelming defeat. She'd do anything not to feel that whip again. But the game didn't work that way.

"What is your name?"

"I don't have one," She said miserably.

"Good. Next question, what are you?" That angellic voice seemed to contain more than a hint of venom.

Kairi whimpered pitifully.

* * *

Wow. That was long. And most of that was only plot framework. I probably should split this into two, but I won't. Yes. So. I don't know what to say. This was really hard to write. Especially the first part. The second part I've known for a very long time was going to happen. All stories need exposition. Unfortunately, my initial set up requires a wall of text. And it's in the same chapter as another less wally-wall of text. 6000 words. I'm tired now.

Actually, I'm going to split this chapter into two. This is now part one..

Also, shout out to Paradise Avenger, without whom I doubt this story would have ever got any reviews at all.

So, yeah, tired.

Read, Review and most importantly: Enjoy!

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83


	4. and The Heroes

Everything I have to say can wait until the end.

* * *

Leon had been examining the piece of paper for about the fiftieth time when the chief had shown up at his office door with the pretty brunette woman in tow. In her arms were her things, she was moving in. The chief had introduced her as newly promoted detective Selphie Tilmitt and rattled off a list of recommendations from various institutions as long as his arm. Leon wasn't interested. He kept looking at the piece of paper, moving it around as if different lighting might reveal a hidden secret message. Eventually he said hello. She'd been gushing with enthusiasm, and to be fair to her, he couldn't blame her. Everyone on the force knew his name. Most of the city knew his name. This was a dream position for the young and ambitious. He envied her naivety.

Mickey left with a promise to return, and a reminder about a meeting in ten minutes. Selphie looked at Leon, Leon looked at the paper. Eventually, she coughed. This seemed to work, he looked up.

"Do you know what this is about inspector? It's all very short notice. You see I arrived in town two days ago and I've barely moved into my new apartment when suddenly I get a call from the chief. He congratulates me on my promotion and asks me to come in right away, and now I'm partnered to you and I really have no idea what the hell is going on. Something to do with a "Prophecy". Why am I here, sir?" She added the last almost absent-mindedly.

Leon sighed. He supposed there really hadn't been time to bring her up to speed but he didn't like to have to explain the situation, the past hurt him enough as it was.

"Prophecy is not a what, Prophecy is a who. You're here because my partner and friend of twenty years decided that he couldn't handle Prophecy again, and killed himself." She was silent for a second, absorbing the new information.

"I'm sorry, sir" She said with sincerity. He looked over at her, she was obviously worried.

"Nothing you can do about it, and drop the sir, my name is Leon," He said evenly.

"Duly noted sir, uh Leon, you can call me Selphie," She said struggling, the situation obviously made her uncomfortable. He was interested in how she would handle finding out what they were up against.

"I know, I intend to," She blushed briefly and recovered.

"So who is Prophecy?"

"That can wait until the meeting, I recommend you put your stuff down on that table," He pointed, "until we can clear out Vince's desk."

"Vincent Valentine is dead?" She asked.

Leon nodded slightly. He'd almost forgotten that Vince had a name almost as weighty as his own, another honoured, dead friend.

She nodded and set her cardboard box down. There was plenty of room in the office and she didn't want to go treading on the ghosts of others, especially not such a well-known ghost.

Leon went back to the piece of paper. Selphie found a chair and sat down, watching Leon. He seemed consumed by that sheet. What was on that paper anyway?

A minute passed in silence, Selphie found it distinctly uncomfortable. She kept glancing at the desk against the wall opposite Leon's. She found it hard to believe _Vincent Valentine_ had been it's previous owner. The more the silence continued, the more it pressed on her that the ghosts of history were all around her and she'd have to face them. She didn't like not knowing. Finally it was too much, she had to speak.

"What was he like sir, If you don't mind me asking, sir?"

Leon waited a moment before responding. "Who, Vince?"

"Yes,"

"He was a hero. A goddamn hero. We all were. And Vince broke just like the rest of us. Prophecy... he did that. We had everything but Prophecy still tainted us. We've carried him in our hearts and minds ever since. Well I still do, the others can't. We all found a way to cope. For Vince it was drinking. He'd gotten a lot worse, but I never expected this. Vincent Valentine, was a goddamn honest-to-goodness hero. And he was my best friend. That's the way he should be remembered, but the press won't let that happen. They never do."

Leon smiled sadly. "Vince was superstitious, and while he never talked much you always felt like he knew what you were thinking. He always understood people. I suppose that's why Prophecy hurt him. He was a fighter that had used up all his fight. It's almost laughable, do you want to know what the last thing he said to me was?"

Selphie nodded, she was listening in a transfixed reverie.

"I'll see you tomorrow Leon, the future looks a little brighter than today," Leon chuckled sadly.

Selphie couldn't find the words to describe what Leon had just told her. It filled her with an enormous sadness, like there was a hole in the world that couldn't be filled. She wondered how Leon felt right now, and how he was still here and coping.

They were still sitting like this when the chief popped his in and told them it was time.

The meeting room had seen larger crowds. It was just five in the room. The chief, Leon and Selphie were there, along with two other men. Leon waved to them when he entered and they waved back. One was shorter and pale, with aged white hair and a trickster's smile. The other was taller, black , bald and looked like he never smiled.

The chief spoke, "Alright, time is short. I reckon given last time we've got anywhere from two to six hours before the first girl is reported missing. Firstly though, I'd like to introduce Detective Selphie Tilmitt. She's new, and she'll be keeping Leon company," The small man smiled, and the tall man didn't quite manage it.

"Detective Tilmitt, I'd like to introduce our two most experienced beat cops, Don Duck," He motioned to the small man, "...and Gareth who everyone calls him Goofy. In case you're wondering, it's ironic." The big man did another one of his not-quite-smiles. She could see how the name fit already. Don offered her his hand, she shook it.

"Delighted." He said. He had a nasal voice, and wheezed slightly. But she looked at his eyes, clever and calculating, and knew that despite his comical appearance, he was every bit as dangerous as Goofy looked.

"Alright," Mickey stood up in front of a plain white screen. "I've been informed by archives that they can't find anything from twenty years back. Nothing digital, nothing shelved. Nothing. The whole lot seems to have vanished." Selphie looked to Leon for how bad this was. Leon was frowning.

"How on earth did all that paperwork just vanish chief?" Leon voiced what the majority of them were thinking.

"That's just it, we don't know. Archives can't find the damn case anywhere in the system. They can't even find references to it. They can't even find the damn hole it left when it vanished. It's like it never happened. But I didn't call you hear to crap all over the archiving department. I already did that."

"Three of you are here, because you're the only people we have left from last time, Detective Tilmitt is hear because she is uniquely qualified, we are entering a case where we have nothing except what we could find in the civilian sector, one qualified officer, the memories of three old men, and Leon. Any questions?" The staement was almost funny but nobody laughed. Nobody even smiled. No one else moved. Eventually Selphie raised her hand. The chief pointed to her, "Yes?"

"Sir, who is Prophecy?" She watched a shadow cross the faces of the other four men in the room.

"Ah, I was just getting to that. Prophecy is the meanest bastard whoever roamed the streets of this city. He is probably single-handedly responsible for more human suffering than most other criminal Trinity City has ever known."

Selphie digested this.

"Prophecy was a serial-abductor. He targeted young women, seemingly at random. They'd disappear without a trace. No-one knew anything, no-one talked. The only way we knew it was him was that he'd leave his own peculiar form of calling card." The chief pressed a button on a remote Selphie hadn't noticed he was holding. The screen flashed to life. On it she could see six rectangles elaborately decorated in pencil. They looked like...

"Tarot cards sir?"

"Absolutely Tilmitt, every time he struck he'd leave the family a sheet exactly like this. Six cards. At first we thought he was yanking our chain. But then as the days went by, and the numbers piled higher we examined them. Every one of those cards means something to someone. So we got a fortune teller to have a look at them. Turns out he'd been leaving us messages. He taunted us. Sent us clues to his whereabouts. Gave us advice on what we should be eating. But we couldn't seem to find him. He was always one step ahead. And he was mean about it too. He left traps, inspired street violence. Cops started dying. And the number of missing girls rose, and rose and rose. The body count went with it. The people panicked. Stayed indoors, shut their stores. And still they were not safe. So the mayor got together with some criminal profilers who couldn't figure him out either. And they suggested something radical. A smaller task force comprised of younger officers, from varying offices and specialities. They claimed it would help." Mickey paused for dramatic effect. "It was the only damn thing we ever did right in that investigation. Thus, Divination came to be. A group of thirteen fated young souls working to stop the greatest criminal threat to our city that ever was." The chief clicked a button on the remote. A picture of thirteen young men and women came into view. Twelve of the smiling young officers had red crosses through their torsos. The remaining one was...

"Leon?" Selphie asked. Leon nodded.

"Tell me detective Tilmitt, had you heard Leon's name before today?"

"Yes, well who hasn't?"

"And had you heard of Vincent Valnetine?" What was the chief getting at?

"Again sir who hasn't?"

"Ah, now tell me detective, why are they so well known?"

"Uh... I don't really know, they cracked a big case?" The dots suddenly joined in Selphie's head. "Wait, that was this case?"

"Indeed it was, I don't blame you for not remembering the case. Nobody wants to remember this. That's why it faded from public memory so damn fast. Despite the memorial service every year. The heroes remain and the villain fades into obscurity."

"Sir if you don't mind me asking, Serial killers and abductors are remembered in other places. Why not here?"

"As we found out, he was worse than just a serial killer. Divination eventually tracked him down. They followed a license plate through four car yards, across three townships and to a warehouse outside of city limits if memory serves" Leon nodded his confirmation. "We didn't go in light. We brought a whole lot of blue shirts. Everyone that was left. Most of them didn't go in though. Just the thirteen from Divination. We figured it would be better if we had a large perimeter and a small strike force, we couldn't let him get away. We were such fools. I'll let the others tell it from here,"

Selphie looked at the other three, it was Don who took over.

"We were there that day, we watched as those kids vanished inside." He said in his strange, squeaky voice, "We waited and we waited. Then suddenly, WHOOSH! The place caught fire. Next thing we know is we're waiting again, we couldn't go in to get them but we wondered why the hell they weren't coming out. Then suddenly just as the fireboys arrive, we see 'em, just a few of them. And they're carrying some folks in their arms. And then as they get out the whole damn building comes down. It was the worst damn thing I ever saw." Wordlessly, Mickey hit a button on his remote. The screen showed a newspaper cutting. The headline read "Deadly Inferno". There was a picture beneath it. It showed a large warehouse on fire, at it's foot several figures were running from a dust cloud. Without cue Leon took over.

"It was worse than we could have imagined. We got inside, and we found him. Or so we thought. I remember him, and I remember thinking it couldn't be right. He was standing in a pool of gasoline with a remote control in his hands. We told him to drop it, he said he wouldn't. He told us it was a dead-man's switch that would set the place on fire. We backed up a bit He then proceeded to proclaim that he was the mighty prophecy and that he foretold a fiery doom for us all. And then I'll never forget what happened. It's as if he changed completely for a second. A different person stepped forward. This is what he said, "The girls are still alive, they're in the basement, I'm sorry, I have to burn for what I've done" And then he hit the switch. So when by all rights we should have been running away, we agreed to stay and try and save them. It took us too much time to locate the basement. There was this incredible heat. And the roaring, I'll never forget the noise, it was like a plane taking off. When we got down there, most of them were dead. We pulled a grand total of four out of that basement. The rest were cooked alive. Under half of us carried them out, the rest stayed to try and capture him. We'd just gotten outside when the roof came down. Nine of us made it out of that hell hole alive. And then everything got worse all round. Afterwards was when we did most of the finding out. Afterwards was hell. Of the girls we got out of there, three of them refused to talk. They wanted to see him. The only one in any condition to tell us, told us why. He wasn't just an abductor. He was a slave maker. He took those girls and through beatings, and intimidation and methods I don't want to remember he turned them into sex slaves. Willing ones. No matter who or what they were before he took them, he got hold of them and beat them, raped them, them, taunted them and broke them until they... changed."

"He'd based his methods on modern cults and techniques last used in the Korean war. He destroyed their sense of identity, and rebuilt it to his own liking. At least that's what the psychologists told us afterwards. And the worst of the lot was the girl who talked, told us that the man who'd set the warehouse on fire wasn't Prophecy. He was just another brainwashed victim, a lackey with one purpose. Just some poor homeless man who never had a chance. Twenty nine young women and eight officers of the law died in that fire. A lot of my close friends snuffed out by that madman in an instant. Nobody remembers because they don't want to think about twenty nine young women with bright futures dying, probably willingly for a man we never caught. He never struck again though. We still don't know who he was either. That one girl said he always wore a mask. We eventually got the other three girls back into functioning order and sent them back to their families. The one who remembered it all vanished before we even got her name."

Selphie realised he'd stopped talking long after he'd actually stopped. She was fascinated and horrified. How could anyone do that? What makes a normal person lose their sense of identity? She looked at Leon and saw his eyes misted over. This was what weighed on him. Or some of it. Something didn't add up.

"Leon, you said five of you made it out of the warehouse, You were one, Vincent was two. Who were the others, and where are those women?"

"That is a series of sad stories. I'll tell you some other time. As for the women finding them is high on our list of priorities. Unfortunately, along with our archives we lost their details. We'll have figure it out. Thankfully the newspapers were rife with the pictures of the missing at the time. The three survivors we still had were put into witness protection but I get the impression we've lost those records too. I had to help debrief them, so I'll remember where and who they are if I can get a picture."

"So what now?" Selphie asked. She wasn't sure she wanted this case but she knew she had to do her bit.

"Now, you have to learn how to read those cards"

* * *

Sora was world-weary and sore when he finally stumbled back to his apartment. It was almost too much to bear. He'd tried every relative, every friend. Her workplace, the night-school and her favourite ice-cream parlour. He tried everything he could think of and got nothing back. The hardest call he'd had to make was the one to Terra. Kairi was his only remaining blood family member, sort-of. Although Terra now had a family of his own, Sora could hear he was really worried. And for a moment they had both just stood there in silent empathy of each other. A silent prayer for the safe return of Kairi. Then Sora had made his excuses and gone out looking again. He only returned now because he was so tired it was getting dangerous to drive. It had been thirty-six hours since he'd been home. He wouldn't get any sleep just yet either. He never made it past the front door. The same front door he'd left all that time ago. Without locking. The door hung open. On the inside a knife was stuck in the door. It was holding up a piece of paper, on the paper were six designs Sora only knew vaguely as Tarot cards.

Sora's phone was in his hands before he knew what he was doing. Some instinct was screaming at him. It was time to call the cops.

* * *

Yeah, this part two of my incredibly long chapter. I think the two parts work better split up.

Again, shout out to Paradise Avenger.

Read, Review and most importantly: Enjoy!

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83


	5. The Cards and The Prisoner

Again, I'm sorry about the wait. This chapter was hard to write. It wasn't a matter of words, it was a matter of state of mind. I had to be inside the Smiling Demon's head. It's not a very nice place.

* * *

Sora watched out through the window in growing wonder as a police car sped towards his apartment. He'd heard the sirens a while ago, but had just come to realise that they were coming for him. When he'd dialled emergency the lady who'd answered had sounded bored but efficient. All that suddenly changed when he mentioned it was a missing persons case. Her voice had suddenly tensed up, if that was possible. She'd asked the victim's age, and for a description. And if anything else unusual had happened. He had described the knife that was still stuck in his door with the attached message Then she'd asked his address. And then she'd told him that he should prepare to receive a visit. He had no idea they responded like this to routine missing persons cases. He was about to find out it was anything but.

He'd been standing on the landing outside when the police arrived. They were both older men, one large and black, one small and white. He knew they couldn't be standard dispatch. At the very least they didn't look like it. They looked dangerous. They quickly saw him, the short one walked over to him and in a funny nasal wheeze introduced himself as Lieutenant Duck, and introduced the other man as Lieutenant Gregory. Lieutenant Gregory was now examining the knife in the door with great interest and speaking rapidly into his radio. Meanwhile Duck asked Sora in excruciating detail about Kairi. When he'd last seen her, what she'd been wearing, where she worked, where she might have disappeared. A barrage of questions which Sora answered without pausing to think. There something in the way the questions were being asked that suggested urgency. He was glad Kairi would get all the help the police could offer but wondered why it was all so important. Finally the questions stopped just as Sora heard sirens again, he knew they were getting closer. He knew this wasn't normal. Duck paused for a second and listened to his radio. Sora just made out "... bring him in...". Ice raced though his veins. They couldn't think he had anything to do with it, could they? Yes, it dawned on him they could, in fact he was probably prime suspect right now.

Lieutenant Duck turned to talk to Sora.

"Mr Skye, I'd like you to come down to the station with me,"

Sora was outraged, "I didn't do anything. My girlfriend is missing. I want her back, could you focus on that?"

"It's a simple chat sir, you aren't a suspect. Our boss would really like to talk to you though,"

"Well if you know it's not me, why arrest me?" As Sora watched, something in Lieutenant Duck snapped. His voice suddenly turned icy,

"Listen son, I didn't say I was arresting you, I said I'd like you to. My boss needs to speak to you right away and does not need to drive out here to do it. Yes, if you want to play it that way we could leave, come back with a warrant and arrest you, but that would take time your girlfriend hasn't got. You're too young to know, but she's in deep trouble. Every goddamn second counts, why do you think we got here so fast?" Other people had come out onto the landing now, brought like moths to a flame by the prospect of drama. "So by all means, play hard to get, and we can come back and make you miserable, or you can come with us, and talk to our boss, nice and friendly because he really needs to ask you a few questions. It's your call."

Cowed completely, Sora agreed.

The second batch of officers had barely arrived before Lieutenants Duck and Gregory were whisking Sora down stairs and into their squad car.

In silence the public watched on.

* * *

"Leon..." Selphie started. The man in question looked back. it had been just minutes since Don and Goofy had left to interview the kid who'd phoned in.

"Mmm?" He seemed absorbed in the cards on the page he was examining, she'd have to ask him what he saw, or thought he saw eventually.

"Why are Don and Goofy so..."

"Gruff?"

"Kind of," She spoke hesitantly, like she was stepping around broken glass.

"You heard what Don said. They were there that day,"

"That doesn't feel like the whole story." He turned and looked her

"You're right, but does it really matter?"

"We're going to be working with them I need to know if they're going to lose it. Goofy looks..."

"Scary?"

"Yeah, why do you call him Goofy anyway?"

"I suppose so, alright, well the rest of the story is as sad as the start, those two used to be regular cops, Goofy used to smile if you can believe it. What happened, was Prophecy. Goofy's wife was one of his first abductions,"

"Jesus,"

"Yeah, And two of Don's nieces. They died in that fire. The casualties of that day were high as I said back there, among them were Goofy's sense of humour and his hair."

"Seriously?"

"It all just fell out, afterwards. Doctor said it was due to the grief. I can believe it. Afterwards, they were changed men. They volunteered together to take up the beat in Southern Prole. Back then that area was known for sex crime. Women couldn't go there at night. It was all filth. The papers called it the human sewage center,"

"Are you talking about that lively downtown area? Feels safer than just about anywhere else I've been,"

"Exactly my point, they did that,"

"Wow,"

"It gets more interesting than that. While crime inexplicably fell, the arrest rate didn't move so much as an iota. On the other hand, the amount of fatal shootings by officers in self-defence showed a huge spike."

"Are you saying...?"

"Yep,"

"Shouldn't they have been pulled off the street?"

"Probably, but who wants to stick up for gang-bangers, paedophiles and rapists? You? They cleaned those streets up. It's now a tourist precinct. And even if you tried, you can't prove anything. Don's much too smart to get caught,"

"It still doesn't feel right to me,"

"Suit yourself, you asked for the whole story, you got it."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend," Selphie could see Leon was troubled by the whole exchange.

Leon sighed deeply. "I know, I don't like their methods either but this is one situation where I can't think of two other people I'd like to have on our side more,"

Selphie didn't know what to say to that. She busied herself in the book Leon had given her to look at. The section on Tarot fascinated her, and not just because of the case.

Leon went back to the paper. Selphie wondered what he was looking for. Apparently he was the expert at interpreting these messages but he just kept looking. Like the paper might suddenly morph into a signed confession, with directions to an evil hideout.

Minutes passed in silence. Selphie reflected that this case was probably above her pay grade. She was a criminal psychologist, not a fortune teller. Sighing, she propped the book open to a reference page for the cards and plucked up the courage to question Leon's methods.

"What are you trying to see?" She said hesitantly.

"You haven't seen this yet, I'd almost forgotten, you see the thing about Prophecy is he never plays by the rules. Especially not of his chosen medium. He could never resist a chance to prove he was smarter than us by subtly changing the game. Have a look at this," Leon moved over and placed the sheet on the table in front of Selphie. The six images stared back. Six cards that were supposed to help them somehow.

"What do you see, detective?"

"Well, uh, that first one's Justice. He's sent it upside down, so I guess he means it's reversed, that next one is The Hanged Man, that's been reversed too. Then there's Death, again reversed. That next one is The Devil, and then there's the Chariot. Those two seem linked, he's drawn a line in between them," Leon nodded, "And finally, The Tower."

"That's all very good, but what do you think it means?"

"Well, Justice reversed is obvious. He's saying there is no justice. And The Hanged Man means the sacrifice of an innocent, so reversed it would mean... a false sacrifice? Death's easy; he's telling us he's not dead. The devil, well that represents evil so I'd say he's talking about himself and he's linked it with the Chariot which means victory. So... he wins. And finally the Tower represents a tragic event. So, the first abduction?"

"That was about what I expected, but you're a way off yet. That book's got a reference at the back with the pictures of these cards, would you turn to it?" Selphie obliged, wondering what she had wrong.

"Right, the first card, Justice, you said reversed it means that there's no justice. Well that's a bit off, reversed does not mean the opposite of, reversed means the card is in someway obstructed or blocked. He's not saying there's no justice, he's telling us the course of justice has been perverted. Likewise, The Hanged Man reversed, is a foolish sacrifice. But that's not the Hanged Man reversed."

"It's not?"

"No, have a look at the picture in the book, what's changed?"

It took Selphie a few seconds to figure it out.

"The text, the actual name, it's at the bottom, it should be at the top. "

"Right, he's not showing us the hanged man, he's showing us a crucified man. More importantly look at the picture,"

Selphie did as instructed and was horrified by what she'd missed.

"Is that...?"

"Yeah, that's Vince. On the cross. This was his message to Vince, to let him know that his sacrifices were in vain. Moving on, contrary to popular opinion, Death does not actually mean death,"

"It doesn't?"

"No, it's more about change and cycles, so reversed it's more of a nothing's changed, or rather change has been disrupted. You were right about the devil and the chariot, however take a closer look at the picture."

"I don't see it." She said after a minute,

"Go back to the originals." He suggested.

She did so, and soon figured out what she had missed.

"The Devil, he's got two women instead of the more traditional male and female. Also the man in the Chariot's face seems to have been painted over with a smiley face."

"Good, He's the devil and he takes only women is what he's saying. The devil is also associated with bondage by ignorance or lack of knowledge. I think he might be taunting us about our problems with the archives. Worse, I think he's responsible."

"How?"

"I haven't got the faintest idea. I need three kinds of clearance to get down there. How he got in is a complete mystery. On to The Chariot, you're right about the face but that means nothing to me. Yet. He's also painted the eyes of the sphinx's blue."  
"What?" Selphie looked again. At first it was indistinct, but slowly the eyes of the two sphinx's looked more and more blue, arriving somewhere between blue and purple.

"I don't know what that means just yet, it's probably something about his victims and it's definitely not good. Finally, you got the Tower's general meaning spot on, but missed the picture change."

Selphie was getting fairly sick of not getting it by now she was however in awe of Leon's ability to notice these minor details. She looked at the tower, only it wasn't a tower. It looked too squat. Too much like a warehouse, and the people...

"Who are they?" Selphie asked.

"Zack and Aerith," Leon said heavily.

"Who?"

"It's a short story but what's important is, this is a parting shot. I think this one's the one that convinced Vince to pull the trigger."

"That's... tragic."

"Tell me about it."

Selphie was left with more questions than answers. She was about to ask Leon to talk more about the cards, when Mickey strode in.

"Leon you're up. Don and Goofy are back with that kid,"

Selphie sighed, she'd just have to wait.

* * *

In the chair, the prisoner writhed. Whoever she was dealing with, angel, demon, God, Satan or something worse, they knew what they were doing. She had cried bitter tears for hours after he left. She always did. She could still feel them on her cheeks, lingering ghosts of a forgotten tragedy. And that's exactly what it was, forgotten. The game, like her rape, like most of what happened after, like almost everything else since she had arrived was filed somewhere in her brain under do not remember. Only her hard won facts stuck. Only the facts mattered. She knew that now.

Since that first vicious attack he had come twice more. Each time he brought more facets of her that were incorrect into the spotlight. These fallacies, the lies others had told her, were slowly being beaten out of her in ways she couldn't remember and for reasons unknown.

_Sora, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, if I ever see you again, you need to know. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault._

She was tired, hungry, thirsty and hurting. Every inch of her ached, partly from unknown blows she still felt all over her body. And partly due to the periodic internal spasms. Ugly bruises littered her arms, her legs, her chest. She didn't know how her face looked, there wasn't a reflective surface in easy view. There was the water bowl, but she couldn't get to it because she was tied to the chair. But the past was not important, nor was the knowledge that he would soon return to play three more times. All that mattered in this dark nightmare were the facts. The facts were not true, and the part of Kairi that was still Kairi knew this. But the prisoner, the one who Kairi had become was not interested. The prisoner needed only the facts. The facts were commandments. The facts were life. The facts were the answers. The answers were a way to stop some of the pain. She knew there were twenty answers. Right now, she only had nine. Nine she kept repeating in her head. Nine to memorise. Nine to replace the truth. As far as the prisoner was concerned they were the truth. The truth would do her no good in this place.

The prisoner moaned as she came again. Pleasure washed through her in waves.

_I'm such a dirty slut. I'm not worth anybody's love._

She could hear her juices landing in the bucket below her. To her shame, it was no longer the thud of an impact on plastic, but a sound suggesting that there was enough already there that the drips no longer touched the bottom. The machine purred mercilessly on.

Unlike so many other things, the prisoner could remember the arrival of the machine.

It had been right after she had won her first three facts. She was ashamed of the way she had cried in front of him now. She was ashamed that she had ever cried in front of anyone. She should have been happy, she had some answers. But she hadn't been. And she felt guilty about that.

After her first game, the demon had pushed the chair over, forwards. She still remembered the terror of not being able to stop the fall. But he had saved her. Not because she was worth saving, but because he wanted her face intact. The chair had halted it's brief and terrifying descent with her nose an inch above the ground. Her shoulders had hurt for hours after that. She had started crying again. She should have been grateful, of this the prisoner was ashamed.

He had lowered her gently the remaining distance and left her resting there, still tied to the chair on her forehead and knees, while he rummaged in his bag. She couldn't see what he was doing, her imagination ran rampant with possibilities as panic set in. She was frigid with sweat and fear before the rustling stopped. When it finally did it felt as if her heart might have too. Her every nerve jangled in nervous, fearful anticipation. And it was due to this that she squeaked when she felt something cold and plastic press against her exposed rear entrance. It wasn't particularly large, nor particularly painful, and it didn't go more than a couple of centimeters in. This lead to endless questions, most of which were answered seconds later when it most unpleasantly began to spray an almost sharp jet of fluid into her. She gasped with shock, but soon enough the spray was dwindling, leaving a most uncomfortable sensation in her lower digestive system. Then he'd yanked the chair upright again, further wrenching her already aching shoulders. He was still holding the intruding object, a small disposable syringe. It wasn't much of a stretch from there to figure out just what he'd done to her. But the why of it had eluded her, why on earth would he want to give her an enema?

"I don't want to get my equipment dirty," She was shocked for a second, it was almost if he'd read her mind. Then she'd started hurling abuse at him. Of this too the prisoner now felt guilty.

She'd called him every abusive term she knew, but he'd just laughed it off. Then, before he left, he'd turned and brandished his riding crop at her. And like a trained dog, she'd fallen immediately silent. He'd picked up the bucket and placed it under the chair. Well now at least she knew why it was a toilet seat. He'd left with an almost obscene giggle and a promise to return within the hour.

At first she thought it wasn't working, but then the pains in her stomach started, followed by bloating. The feeling built, and built until she couldn't hold it any longer. She had to let go.

He returned maybe twenty minutes later, but she couldn't be sure. Time ran differently in this place.

"All done?" That stupid, juvenile, terrifying smile mocked her. She imagined it calling her dirty and disgusting. Although she couldn't be sure if it was her imagination. She was too tired to figure it out. Her fighting spirit had left her again, along with the contents of her bowel.

He rustled in his bag again. That black bag of tricks. She didn't hate it though, nor fear it. It was all him. He'd got out a container full of baby wipes and without ceremony cleaned off the areas sullied by her recent actions. She'd squirmed but had felt better for it. This smiling enigma was many things but at least he respected hygiene. He tossed the results into the bucket, and pulled it out from under her.

"You're a messy one," He said offhandedly. She had no idea why that stung her so much. He rustled in the bag again, and she wondered exactly how much he kept in there. Time passed, he looked like he was untangling something. She tried not to let her fear build. But she couldn't help it. It was like she knew he was about to introduce a new torment to her. And she wasn't wrong.

When he eventually got whatever it was free, it only looked like a lot of wiring. But then her eyes began to pick out odd features, a solid appendage here, a bulb there. And it all still meant nothing to her. But then he turned to face her, and she knew it wasn't anything good.

As he began to affix it to her, she came to figure out "His equipment,". It had four appendages, or endings. Two of them were small round pads. One was a larger... thing. It was black and visibly smooth and rounded, a weird shape vaguely reminiscent of a baby's pacifier. At one end it was almost phallic, though considerably more bulbous and at the other was a large flat disc. Connecting the two was a short, cylindrical shaft, considerably narrower than the other two parts. The final appendage was a lot less of a mystery. It was shaped very obviously and at a base level, like a cock. A scary, chimera cock. It was quite unlike any other Kairi had ever seen. It had flared and rounded protrusions, at odd points along the shaft, all facing one way. It was weirdly shaped, and had an extra "limb", that protruded from the cylindrical base. It looked more like a torture device than a thing of pleasure. Then she remembered who would be operating said device and realised it probably was.

"You'll see," He said ominously. He'd only followed her gaze, but to a scared, tired Kairi it began to feel like he could read her mind. She experimented by mentally projecting vast amounts of hate his way. If he had felt, he did not show it. He was too busy wiring her. He was attaching the wires to her with tape. She followed them with her eyes now that they were distinct. A wire that split into two was being taped at intervals to snake up her chest, where it split into two wires that dead ended in the pads. When he was done he affixed the pads to her nipples. The lower wiring was hard to make out, but she no longer needed to. If the chimera-thing was going in the obvious way, then the other would be going in her freshly vacated bowels. She gulped, she doubted the thing would even fit. Desperate for a distraction, she followed the wires the other way, and noticed they finished in a black box that was about the size of a car battery. The box's sole defining feature was a large dial, with markings she couldn't make out. She didn't need to read them, she could guess. Her throat suddenly felt dry.

When he stepped back to admire his work she was still trying to adjust to the sensation of fullness that now pervaded her being. It was both uncomfortable and extremely comfortable. Contrary to her initial analysis, the insertion had hardly hurt at all. Against all her expectations he'd been careful, slow and gentle. He'd even lubricated it. And the chimera device, well, it was a revelation. It had been a bit uncomfortable at first, but he's made some adjustments, a few twists. And then it was like the stars came into alignment. It pressed against her in odd, sensitive places she hadn't even known she had. That weird extra limb had come to press against her clit. She had to remind herself that this machine's inventor tortured her for fun. She remembered clearly that in that moment, her thoughts had flashed to Sora. And she had been flooded with shame and guilt. She had been kidnapped, and was being raped multiply by proxy. This shouldn't feel good. But it did. That's when he switched it on.

Her vision actually dimmed for a second as the device was switched on, and she was suddenly pleasured. Immensely. It was like a bomb had gone off inside her. She gasped repeatedly for air as her heart rate sky-rocketed. It was a perfect, pleasure machine. The vibrations hit her anywhere and everywhere it felt good, she couldn't begin to analyse the ways or places in which she was being stimulated. She felt herself rapidly approaching orgasm before she had fully realised what had happened. The first time the machine had it's way with her, she had screamed. And that's when the Smiling Demon pounced.

"Enjoying it you little whore?" He leant over and whispered in her ear, "I thought I knew what I was taking, but it turns out you're easier than I expected," His words were poison in her ears, and a virus in her mind. Each had stung her, each made her think painful thoughts. "You were so quick to come, did you even think of those you say love you, what would your boyfriend think?" The involuntary image of Sora cut deep into her soul. She felt guilty, inescapably so. She had to fight back tears. It hurt, her. A large part of Kairi died in those few moments. And the prisoner rose to take it's place. "What would your mother think?" Ignoring the fact that she knew she'd never met her real mother, Kairi's thoughts flashed to Rikku. And then Terra. Even Axel. Every flash was intense, bringing stabbing pangs of guilt and shame. "You've betrayed them all, not one of them will want you back." The part of Kairi that still existed had tried to fight, to make her see. He was exploiting her at her weakest, at her most distracted. And the prisoner ate it all up. Again he'd amazed her, and hurt her. Those venomous words, in that honeyed voice. It just made it all the more believable. She began to cry. He left her like that, with the machine running. It wasn't long before she came again. And again. Every time, it was followed by waves of pain, shame and guilt that slowly chipped away at what was left of Kairi. She'd thought she was out of tears. She'd been wrong again.

The memory stung the prisoner. The machine still hummed inside her. She'd tried to fight it, but t seemed it like it worked better when she fought. Eventually it became a fact. Since then he'd returned many times. She didn't know how long she'd been hooked up to this thing. Sometimes he fed her, sometimes he gave her water which she realised she quickly depleted. Sometimes he let her relieve herself. Sometimes he just came down and abused her, calling her names and telling her why she should feel bad. Sometimes he beat her, the pain and pleasure mingling in her quivering body. Sometimes he played the game. The game was harder hooked up to a device that overrode most thought. But she'd adapted. She kept the facts in her head. She had to.

1. I have no name. Names are for people, I am not a person.

2. I am a toy. An object to be used for his pleasure.

3. He always tells the truth. He is good to me if I behave.

4. Nobody ever wanted me.

5. Nobody misses me.

6. Nobody ever loved me.

7. Nobody remembers me.

8. Nobody is looking for me.

9. I will never be free, but there is freedom in a cell.

The prisoner repeated this list over and over in her head. The price of failure in the game was high. Last time he had burned her with candle wax. And there were still eleven answers that had to be found through taking his punishments. And she was drowning in guilt and shame for her sins. And still, what was left of Kairi raged inside the prisoners head, but not so loudly that she couldn't drown it out. She had to drown Kairi out. It was for her own good.

* * *

Alright, I'm tired. Again, so I'll keep this brief. Yes I'm confident I need my head examined. Yes my villain is a bastard. I find it really hard to write some of this stuff.

Yes, Sora is the main character but he's sidelined by plot development beyond his control. No, we aren't anywhere near the end. Yes I don't update fast enough. Yes, I'll try to get faster.

Also. In lieu of my usual review rant, Please, tell me how you think I'm doing. I beg you.

Also, Longest chapter in one published to date. Also 5 chapters is a new milestone for me. *Happy Dance*

Also, **Paradise Avenger **gets a shout out for giving me a plug in her story. And for the fact she makes up more than half of my reviews. Some people can't be praised enough.

So Read, Review and Most Importantly: Enjoy!

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83


	6. The Pain and The Suffering

It sure has been a while.

Edit: Holy shit, I'll never post anything at 4am ever again. I fixed a bunch of errors, and added some things that should have been in the initial draft and changed some stuff that just doesn't make sense. Also please note that I'm going to mention characters by name that won't be fully introduced for a chapter or so. So bear with me. Again. Also, Paradise Avenger saved the story again. So be grateful to her.

* * *

The room was windowless, featureless and timeless. It's the same room that exists in police stations all over the world. Plain, bare walls. Featureless concrete floor. The fittings are always the same as well: four cheap chairs, two bolted doors, a featureless metal desk and a one-way glass panel.

Sora doubted he could stand another moment in this room. And then that moment passed, and he realised he could, while simultaneously swearing that he could not idly pass the next. Then the next moment passed. Such is the passage of time marked in limbo.

A loud clang ended the eternity of boredom, the door at the other end of the room had opened. It was Lieutenant Duck again. Supposedly he'd been brought in to see this guy's boss. All he'd seen so far were Duck and Gregory. Just them.

It wasn't that bad, they were nice guys. Well Duck was. Gregory was just scary. Although he hadn't done anything to suggest he wasn't nice. Or said anything, at all. The problem was when you looked at them you felt on a primal level that they had seen and fought things from your darkest nightmares. It put Sora on edge to say the least.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been here now. It could have been anywhere between thirty minutes and eight hours. He didn't have anyway of knowing, his watch was being examined by forensics apparently. He really hoped he'd get it back soon, Kairi had given it to him when they'd moved in together. That brought him back to the harsh reality of worry and pain that was Kairi.

On that score, one thing above all bugged him. He was having real trouble grasping exactly why he was here now. Yes she was missing. Yes he was worried. But that didn't feel like on it's own it merited a major police investigation. And he was sure it was major. As far as he knew the only cops on it were Duck, Gregory and the mysterious Leon but they seemed to get priority treatment everywhere they went. This room had been in use when they'd arrived. It took them all of ten minutes to clear it out. Minutes later they'd had food brought to them by cops who were clearly unhappy doing so and were equally clearly not part of the investigation. Whatever else he'd asked for since had been brought much the same way. In fact he had everything except the meeting with Leon he'd been brought here for. The question constantly niggled at him, what could Leon possibly be doing that was more important than interviewing him?

Sora supposed he'd find out in due course but it still aggravated him that he was being unofficially held for an interview he needed to do so they could find Kairi and bring her back. Wherever she was. And whoever had her. He was sure he could tell them something useful.

On deeper reflection, Sora supposed that he was angry because he wasn't able to do anything. Patience had never been his strong suit. He'd rather have been outside looking. Kairi was still out there and still close, he could feel it in his heart. He wanted to get out and look for her but was instead stuck in this godforsaken room doing nothing but twiddling his thumbs and watching Duck and Gregory come and go.

He sighed and closed his eyes. It would be easier if he just slept. Sleeping he could do right now. It was one of his talents, when he wanted to sleep – he just slept.

Before he drifted off his last thought was "Where are you Kairi?"

* * *

"There's something familiar about this girl, Selphie," Looking up from the cards she'd been told to have a go at translating, Selphie swivelled to face Leon. He was staring intently at the photo of of the missing girl.

"What?"

"That's just it, I don't know what it is."

"You mean like Deja vu?

"Yeah, kind of, but it's more than that."

"So have you seen her before?"

"No, well, I don't think so, not in this life."

"So what is it?"

"I don't know, it's frustrating, I feel like it's staring me right in the face. There's something I'm missing, a similarity to someone maybe."

"You'll remember it if it's important, otherwise let it go. We've got to interview her boyfriend."

"I probably should, but can I feel it's possibly more important that I figure this out first."

"Well, if you're having trouble distract yourself with these cards, I'm getting nowhere."

"Alright, let's have a look."

Leon stood up and stretched, it had been a long night already and it wasn't even half begun. The first few hours after a disappearance are perhaps more critical than the first few after a murder.

He'd worked homicide for a while, not long after the first Prophecy saga's tragic end. Fine detectives they may have been but they were a superstitious bunch. They always talked about the first forty-eight hours after a murder with particular reverence. Leon had thought it sounded almost childish, but experience remedies foolishness. It quickly became apparent that after forty-eight hours a lot of options went dead. Witnesses disappeared or were simply never found, biological evidence began to erode and the murderer's location becomes more and more uncertain. Inside forty-eight hours everything was easier. Now he was back heading up a missing person's case. The problem was, he reflected, that public misconception seemed to be that Missing Persons were expressly unable to act inside of forty-eight hours. That was a left memory of an outdated and over-ruled policy from older, less sinister times. It had been changed a long time ago but it was still common to believe that one had to wait a certain period of time to report disappearance. This differed from twelve to seventy-two depending on who you were talking to. Unfortunately the average was forty-eight. This meant that often by the time the police were informed much of the trail had gone cold. If only the people knew they didn't have to wait if there were serious concerns. They had tried in the past to get the message across, but it was constantly set back by bad TV serials and reality TV. How reality TV managed to constantly get it wrong was beyond him. Hell there was one playing right now on Channel Seventeen called "48 Hours Later- Inside the Missing Persons Unit,". They had tried to get it cancelled or at least to change the title, but it had a thick skulled producer, a cult following, some really good lawyers and splashed enough money around that they never quite got around to changing it. What it all came back to though was that he wasn't going to be able to stop working for a long time. If he stopped they didn't have a hope in the world until the next victim. And there would be another, this Leon knew for a fact. Prophecy had too much ego to stop at just one.

Part of Leon told him they couldn't catch Prophecy. A larger part than he liked to admit. They hadn't caught this particular sick bastard before and back then they'd had better men than him. Hell he'd been a thirteenth wheel on the original squad. They'd had Zack. They'd had Cloud. And Tifa, Vince and Seph. They had the best and the brightest. He hadn't been picked for his abilities, be they what they were. He'd been picked because he had instinct. That was what his transfer order had said in about fifteen times as many words. That wasn't what it meant though. What it meant was he was lucky.

The rest of the Trinity City Police Department was just as superstitious as homicide. He supposed that was why Prophecy had chosen his modus operandi, it played to the superstitious. As for himself Leon had completely midrange abilities everywhere but his ability to guess. He fluked what others did had to work hard for, and while he did as much work as everyone else he seemed to get more results. The keyword in that sentence to Leon was seemed. If there was a mugging in progress that he could stop it more often than not happened that it was right where he happened to be having lunch, and a senior journalist at the city's newspaper just happened to be walking by. And the victim happened to be the mayor's daughter. And so on.

As it became more and more apparent that this happened around him he gained more of a reputation in the force as a good luck charm. He would rather have been known for the work he had actually done, which was not inconsiderable. But in this city good luck was valued at about ten good men. So he'd been transferred onto Divination to bring the others luck. Some luck. It had been him that had picked the warehouse out of a list of possible sites and chosen to investigate it.

Then Leon had found out he was worth twelve good souls. That never left him. All the others had missed out on the rest of what could have been long, happy lives because he was luckier. He'd survived. On days when he was a bit more lenient with himself, Leon would admit that Cloud, Tifa and Seph hadn't been his fault. And Vince definitely wasn't. That didn't stop the pain though.

He sighed, long and deep and looked over at his new partner. She, he mused, was the sole thing that gave him hope at the moment. She was a good detective. Even if she didn't get the specifics of the cards yet, she was learning fast. And the fact she was still sitting here after finding out what this case entailed amazed him. He supposed it was different for her, she hadn't bee there. She hadn't lost everyone she ever cared about, yet. Still she was infectiously positive. He knew it wouldn't do her any good, this case was sure to end in heartbreak for all, but it gave him something to fight for. He was sorely lacking in reasons to carry on right now.

Leon got up and went over to Selphie. Prophecy's dark message was on the table in front of her. It took him a couple of seconds to figure out exactly what his old enemy was saying this time.

"Still can't get these cards?"

"Yeah, it's not that I can't find the meanings of each individual card, it's that I'm finding it hard to figure out his intended meaning from them,"

"Alright, I think I can help, close your eyes."

"How will this help, Leon?"

"Prophecy is not about knowing, Prophecy is about sensing. Humour me." She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Alright Selphie, now tell me what you remember about the cards,"

"You sure this will help? I don't think I can remember all the interpretations like this"

"I'm not asking for a perfect recollection, just tell me what you remember."

"Well, this time he used more of the minor arcana. I'm not quite sure what that means yet, but I do remember the pictures he changed and..."

"Stop. You're thinking it over too much. Card by card analysis is only truly effective if you know what he's trying to tell us in advance. What do you think it all meant?"

"Well, I think he's doing the equivalent of giving us the middle finger."

"Very good."

"What? That's it?"

"Yep, it's the same pattern I saw in some of his messages last time, especially his earlier ones. See he's using cards to tell us what he's done. The Eight of Swords is effectively all he needs to tell us that, the illustration of the captive girl in the prison of swords is pretty much his message. He throws in a description of the girl, using cards like The Empress. The Empress is his way of tell us that he's doing terrible things to her. The other four cards, especially The de-Suited Queen mean much the same."

"The de-suited queen? I thought that looked like the queen of swords?"

"It used to be, but he cut the sword from the picture. Effectively, he took her identity. Which if what happened to his victims last time is anything to go by, is pretty much what he's doing to poor Kairi Lamb right now."

"I see. Leon, how do you do that?"

"Practice."

"Were you the one who translated these... you know, the first time Prophecy was here?"

"No, no. I wasn't this good back then. It was actually Vince who did that, he had a way of cutting through all the bravado and the bullshit. He was something truly impressive. I'm still not as good at this as he was back at the time."

"It doesn't look like it from here."

"You never saw Vincent in action," It was a statement of fact, put cuttingly.

A brief silence fell between the two embattled officers

"I didn't, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend." Selphie said sincerely.

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't over react like that."

"You're forgiven as long as I am too, deal?"

"Deal." Leon chuckled. He was seriously beginning to like his new partner.

Selphie hesitate a few moments before speaking again, like she had something difficult on her mind.

"Leon, I know you said it could wait, but I've been thinking and it could be important, what happened to the rest of the survivors from that day?" Leon's face darkened.

"I knew I'd have to tell you this sometime, it's just painful. So bear with me, yeah?"

Selphie nodded.

"Well, the other three squad members who made it out of that warehouse were Cloud, Tifa and Sephiroth, who everyone just called Seph." Leon paused as if weighing up options."I need to try and explain to you what they were like, so you can understand exaclty why what happened happened. Cloud was a nice guy, once you got through the bravado. He was basically good, even if he had issues to work through. He was on the squad because he worked hard and got results. Tifa, was the squad counsellor. She was a trained police officer, but her main job was to keep everyone functional in the face of something that hurt us all. She was sorely needed though, when we eventually got to that warehouse moral was at an all time low. Finally, Seph was the criminal-psychologist on the squad. He too was a nice guy, but the Prophecy case, well, it got to him. He obsessed over it. I'll explain more as I go, but those are the basics for now, still with me?"

"Yes."

"Good, alright. Well, after the fire, a lot of things happened. Cloud seemed the least affected by it, which is to say he was the most available, it seemed like working through all his own problems meant he was more prepared for tragedy. Regardless, he handled most of the paper-work in clean up and kept the squad going. Tifa, well Tifa was put in charge of the victims, after the doctors got through with them. And Sephiroth, well, he was more motivated than ever. He really wanted to catch Prophecy. He helped Tifa figure out how to de-program the surviving girls. Well three out of four of them. The fourth disappeared without a trace. Anyway, the two of them worked through this together. Sephiroth became quite enamoured with Tifa. But Tifa, well she only had eyes for Cloud. In fact that's something I forgot to mention, Cloud and Tifa became an item shortly after the fire. That's important, so keep it in mind.

"Anyway, weeks passed. The witnesses were returned to normal and packed off back to their families. They were all really good friends with Tifa by then. She had that effect on people. The investigation went nowhere though. Sephiroth obsessed over Prophecy. He said he'd get inside Prophecy's head. Cloud was promoted to the head of the task force, we'd lost our original commander in the fire. Tifa got pregnant, and she and Cloud announced wedding plans. All this had a nasty effect on Seph. He got quiet, and distant. But he just kept trying to crack the case. He just wouldn't give up.

"Then they shut down the task force about 6 months after the fire. They were confident that Prophecy wasn't going to strike again and we were chewing funds so they called the whole lot off. Seph took that the hardest. He told me that he'd never give up though. That was... at the after-party the night we shut down. Honestly the rest of us didn't want to look any more. Except for Seph, of course.

"More time passed, Cloud and a heavily pregnant Tifa married at long last. A small ceremony, just Divination. No one had much in the way of family. I was best man. That was the last time we were all happy.

"I don't know what sent Seph over the edge or when. He'd been having problems, but he simply stopped showing up for work, His mother died around the same time apparently, and he was still obsessed with catching Prophecy. But I still don't know exactly what did it. All I know is what happened next.

"Around nine months after the fire, I woke up one morning to a phone call telling me that Cloud had been shot dead in his home. There was no sign of Tifa anywhere. I investigated, the short version of the story is Sephiroth did it. I don't know why exaclty, I can think of a few reasons he might have but I didn't know he hated Cloud that much. I went to confront him, rather stupidly, I went alone. What I got for my trouble was this." Leon pointed to the scar on his face. Selphie winced. "He hit me with a coffee-table as I kicked his front door in..."

"A coffee table?" Selphie interrupted.

"Yeah that's exactly what I thought before it hit me in the face. It was a glass-topped wooden number. Believe me it hurt a good deal more than it sounds like it did. Sephiroth had some serious swing power. I don't think it was his first choice of weapon, but it's apparent to me looking back that he didn't want to kill me. Just Cloud and Tifa. I think the table was just the nearest swingable object on hand."

"Point taken, what happened next?"

"Well when I came to, he was gone. There was still no sign of Tifa. In fact there wasn't for another month.

"We eventually found them. Both shot and then charred to a crisp in a house fire. We had to use blood we found nearby and hair samples to identify them. I don't know which of them tried to kill the other, but it doesn't matter. They're both dead now."

Selphie sat for a moment in shock. How much tragedy could one man have in his life?

"Leon, I'm sorry."

"I said it before kid, there's nothing you can do about it. It's not your fault." Leon said this with infinite patience conferring infinite sadness."

"I know, but shit, that's awful. I'm sorry I asked."

"I'm sorry it happened."  
Selphie didn't know what to say to that. She wanted to get out of the office though, that much she did know.

"We should go see that boyfriend,"

"Yeah, let's go... Oh."

""What?"

"You know, I just figured it out."

"The thing with the girl?"

"Yeah, I guess it wasn't as important as I thought."

"Well what is it?"

"It's her eyes. They remind me of Cloud's. That's all it was."

"Cloud must have had some beautiful eyes."

"I'll show you a picture some time. When you looked into them you felt like you could have drowned in them. Come on, the poor kid's been waiting too long for us and time doesn't pass quickly in the interview room." Leon got up and left. Selphie lingered a few seconds, wondering how Leon was still functional after all that he'd been through. The answer came to her like a knife through her heart.

He still functioned because he had to, because if he stopped there'd be no one left who could do hat he did. He was their only hope.

* * *

The prisoner wanted to stop thinking, to stop existing, anything to forget. But her betrayal was burned into her brain. She couldn't undo it. She couldn't forget it. She could only relive it, weep and curse herself.

The prisoner had been excited about it, to her shame. The smiling demon had given her an alternative to the game and she had foolishly accepted. "Better the evil you know than the one that you don't," that had been a favourite saying of Rikku's. Though she supposed he did it deliberately, manipulating her into taking the option he wanted.. Recent games had punished her fivefold for each incorrect answer and even the prisoner was starting to crave an end to it. She was proud however about one thing, now she had fifteen facts. Each one payed for in blood. Beaten into her bruise-mottled and pleasure-stained body. But that was not the source of her pain, not any more.

Something new had seemed alright at first. He had asked her about Kairi. Simple questions, like the name of her mother. In fact it was all names. Her mother's name, her father's name, her brother's name, the names of her friends, her boyfriend's name. The prisoner knew that he would beat her if she didn't answer. Or if she lied. He would know if she lied. Fearing reprisal she gave them away willingly. So she told him of Rikku, who had adopted Kairi and how sad Kairi had been when she died. And of Axel, who had pretended to be Kairi's father but she loved anyway. And of Terra, Kairi's step-brother by an unknown father. Of Kairi's collection of friends. And of Sora, who Kairi had loved more than the world. The words flowed freely and without hesitation, and with every name it seemed as if the Smiling One leaned closer to her.

Then he used her own fuel to burn her alive.

"What do you think Sora would think of you if he saw you now?" The Smiling One used the tone he saved for lecturing her, his pain-bringing voice.

The prisoner was confused until she remembered that she was secretly Kairi. She had to fumble around in her own head for an answer that would satisfy. He waited patiently as if he knew what was going on inside her. She wasn't sure that he didn't know.

"I think he wouldn't care what I looked like, he'd still love me. And he'd want whoever had hurt me dead." She spoke with conviction.

"Would he now? Would he want you if he knew what I know, that you're just a common slut."

"That's not true!" She blurted, the riding crop landed before she had finished speaking. She yowled in pain.

"Let's try that again, would he want you if he knew you were a common slut?"

"Yes," she breathed. Again the riding crop struck.

"You don't seem to get it," He wasn't angry, he never got angry, only more condescending, "Would Sora want this?" He pulled a framed picture out of his bag. In it was a terrifying, melancholy vision. Within the shadow of the shiny surface, a wretched being writhed, a pale, emaciated form with tangled shoulder length hair like blood. It was beaten and broken. It was wrecked. It had once been beautiful, she could tell by the way the imperfections marred it. Ugly blotches of varying putrid shades covered it from head to toe, turning the pale of it's skin from advantage to blemish, it was far too white. It hadn't been in the sun for too long, a creature of the light like it should not be in such a dark and dismal place. Worst of all were it's eyes, sunken and dull blue, full of fear, unused tears and sadness. She wanted to help the pitiable creature, until she connected the dots and realised that it was her in a mirror. Her on her harlot's throne, plugged and sated by a machine, kept and terrorised by a madman.

"N-no". She said with some consideration, Sora wouldn't want her now. Not like this. Sora didn't deserve something as awful as the thing in the mirror. For this, she wept. Never again would she hold his hand, or stare into his beautiful cerulean eyes. He'd never hold her to him and tell her it would be alright. He wouldn't want anything to do with her. His warmth was out of reach forever.

"You're right, stupid creature that you are. And it's not because you were wrong about him, he hasn't changed. You changed. You are the one who failed. What you are today is you, it's what you always wanted to be. He believed your lies before but now with all pretense of decency stripped away you know the truth, he'd never want what you are at heart. He was wrong about you all along, wasn't he?"

"I don't know," the prisoner sobbed, tears rolled down her cheeks and landed on the slope of her too-thin stomach. The riding crop cracked and she cried out.

"Liar, you do know, you just can't bear the truth. Sora was wrong about you. Everyone was wrong about you. Everyone except me." His hate-lined fallacies hid between layers of conviction and beauty. For the prisoner, it was as good as the truth.

"It's true," she sobbed,

"Say it, free yourself from your lies, tell me that you proved them wrong, all of them. You'll never redeem yourself a lifetime of lies, but maybe you can make a start," the words struck at her heart and filled her brain. She couldn't think, she didn't want to think. She just wanted the pain gone before she burst.

"They were wrong about me," She admitted.

"Who? Who was wrong about you wench?"

"Everyone," defeat hung heavily from the word.

"That's not enough, I need names, redemption require names," the prisoner knew just what to say next but the words froze on her tongue. Something inside her held her back, maybe because she knew deep down it wasn't the truth. Maybe it was because the rest of her spirit hung in the balance. She shrugged the strange force off.

"My friends were wrong about me,"

"Good, there may be hope for you yet," His smile almost seemed to widen.

"Terra was wrong about me, Axel was wrong about me," Each announcement flowed more easily out of her, like a weight had been lifted off her chest.

"Keep going,"

"Rikku was wrong about me," This one tugged something deep within the prisoner. She payed it no heed.

"Almost there,"

"S... So..." The mysterious force returned with gusto, the words tripping on her frozen lips. The prisoner could feel that there was something about this last one, something permanent, something irreversible.

"SAY IT!" The Smiling One struck the floor with the riding crop, causing the words to spill from the prisoner's mouth.

"Sora was wrong about me,"

The words feel from her mouth and shattered on the floor, there was something irrevocable about them, and it was only after they were gone that she realised just how much they meant.

"Foolish girl, so easy to break and so eager to please. That was a test, of resolve and of loyalty. Apparently, you lack both. Not only are you a dumb slut, but you're a treacherous one. There's no hope for you now, you who so easily and eagerly betrayed your "loved ones". Pathetic." He spat the last word, like a curse. It was then she realised she'd condemned herself. He was right, she'd betrayed them. Offered them up without a second thought. She was bad. She was evil. She was poison. She cried for her soul. She wept. She begged forgiveness. Her whole being ached under the weight of her betrayal.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." The prisoner sobbed brokenly.

"No, no you're not, you stupid whore. I know you meant every word. You betrayed those you say you loved. Not that you ever loved them. If you'd loved them you wouldn't have given up so easily, and you wouldn't have said it at all. About any of them. But you did. And I can tell you that all you've done is to shatter the illusion that you thought was your life. They never loved you either. They never thought you were worth anything. You were always a worthless burden on them. You were never loyal to them and they knew it. They never liked you. I can see that it's true. You know it's true. And now that you've betrayed them you can ask them and they will tell you it's true. You know you're not worth anything to anyone. You never were."

The prisoner sobbed louder tears streaming down her cheeks. The twin tracks down her face formed the dark river in which she was drowning. It was an ugly place, coloured black and full of pain, guilt and shame. She wished she was playing the game. She wished she was being raped. She wished she was dead. She wished she hadn't said it. But she had. And no-one would ever forgive the prisoner. She wasn't getting out of here and even if she did no-one would want her back. She had betrayed them. Sold them down the river for her own selfish desires. Her insides hurt, her outsides hurt. Everything hurt. She was ashamed. She was guilty. She was a worthless traitor. She was wrong. Everything about her was just wrong.

Kairi didn't try to stop the prisoner thinking these thoughts. The prisoner wasn't sure Kairi was here any more. Kairi didn't want her either. The prisoner didn't want herself. She was just a stupid, treacherous slut.

She didn't feel him leave her. It was only later when she finally looked up that she realised he was gone. She was almost sad when she did figure it out. At least he still kept her, even though she had failed him. At least he still wanted her. Her weakened soul latched on to that. She had failed everyone, but she could make it up to him. She'd do her best. She'd do anything to remove the ache that vexed her very essence. The ache that told her she was wrong in every way.

* * *

Well as most of you hopefully know, FF has been giving authors in this fandom the run around for a couple of days. Still this chapter is overdue even considering that. I hope it meets all your expectations and raises more questions than it answers. *Evil Smile*.

Also, I keep forgetting to say this. To all my reviewers so far, thanks a bunch.

So

Read, Review and most importantly: Enjoy!

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83


	7. Breakthroughs and Breaking

Alright guys, after the last chapter was published I noticed I'd left some stuff that was meant to be in it out. So if you read the last chapter before the edit notice appeared at the top of the page go back and read Leon's segment again. Sorry it wasn't in the initial version, that was my bad.

Also, this would have been posted sooner, but I've been locked out of logging in for the past couple of days. By the looks of things most people have had the same problem.

* * *

Sora woke with a start when the door clanged open. A quick glance revealed it wasn't either Lieutenant Duck, or Lieutenant Gregory which meant he might actually be needed. Here were two new faces. One was a pretty brunette woman with intelligent green eyes who couldn't have been more than five years older than Sora himself. The other was a vaguely familiar, handsome brown-haired man in his late thirties or early forties. His face was marred only by a large scar that prevented it from being perfectly symmetrical. Their faces, while a pleasant change from the vague scariness that was Duck and Gregory, were as serious and grave as they were attractive. It was unnerving to say the least.

"Mr Skye, I'm sorry we're late. We had to investigate some other matters before we could attend to you," It was the older man who spoke. His voice was both sincere and serious. It was hard not to believe him.

"It's alright, just please, help me get Kairi back. She's all that matters."

"We will Sora. May I call you Sora?"

"Yeah. You must be Leon, right?"

"I am Leon and this is my partner Selphie. Feel free to use our names. We're going to need to trust you as much as you need to trust us and that's easier if we're all on a first name basis. Do you agree?"

"I do. That sounds good Leon."

"Alright Sora, I'm going to level with you. We need to know a lot about Kairi. Pretty much everything that you think could help. As such, we will ask you a series of questions. I need you to answer as best you can. The interview will be recorded. Afterwards we will turn off the recorder and then I'll tell you all I can in relation to what we know. But I need you to answer my questions, deal?" Sora couldn't help but admire the man. He was professional, he was likable and most of all Sora could see he really wanted to help.

"Deal, what do you want to know?"

"Alright, Selphie start the recorder."

The brunette woman placed a device that could only be a tape-recorder in the middle of the table. She pressed a button and the tapes began to spin. Leon did a brief introduction stating the date, time and officers present. Then the questions started.

"First off, state your name for the record,"

"Sora Skye,"

"And you are eighteen years old, correct?"

"Yes."

"Okay Sora, let's talk about Kairi. She's..." Leon consulted a file he'd brought in with him. "...seventeen, right?"

"Yes, and before you ask, we did get all the legal documents filled out before she moved in with me."

"Don't worry, we're not here about that. How long have you known Kairi?"

"I've known her since we were both about five. "

"And how long ago did you two become romantically involved?"

"About three years ago, though we both harbored feelings for a long time beforehand."

"You two live together?"

"Yes."

"Alright, when was the last time you saw Kairi?"

"The morning that she disappeared, I kissed her goodbye before I left for work. She just never came home."

"Do you have any idea when or where she was abducted from?"

"Abducted? I thought there were more options than just that."

"Just assume we know something you don't, do you know where or when she might have been grabbed?"

"Give me a second... Yeah, I spoke to her boss at the diner. She worked a full day that day, so assuming she was kidnapped it was probably somewhere on her route home, between five and five-thirty. I could mark it on a map for you."

"Where does Kairi work?"

"She works part-time at the Thirteenth Street Diner to pay for her studies. She's studying nursing at TCU."

"Does Kairi have any family nearby?"

"It's pretty much just me."

"Any family at all?"

"Well, there's Terra, her step-brother. He got married and moved away last year though. Then I suppose there's Axel. Axel might as well be her father, he's the closest thing she ever had."

"Closest thing she ever had?"

"Oh right... Kairi was adopted. But her mother wanted her to have a father figure in her life. Axel was Kairi's mother's boyfriend around the time she was supposedly conceived, and he'd always wanted a daughter. It just kind of clicked. She only found out a couple of years back that she wasn't theirs biologically. She didn't take it too badly. She still thinks of them as her parents and she still keeps in touch with Axel."

"And the adoptive mother?"

"Died, in a car accident last year."

"Ah... What was the mother's name?"

"Rikku, Rikku Lamb," There was a pause in the regular flow of conversation. Selphie, who was looking at the relatively at ease Sora turned to look at her partner. Leon's jaw was sitting open in what Selphie could only assume was surprise. It was a weird look on Leon.

"Are you sure?" Leon asked, urgency evident in his voice.

"Uh... Yes, why?"

"Excuse us for a minute. Interview suspended at 3:17 am."

Leon got up and left, Selphie followed.

Sora watched them go in amazed silence. What on Earth did Rikku have to do with all this?

* * *

The second Leon was out the room he took off like a rocket. Selphie tried her best to keep pace but found herself falling behind. It wasn't clear where he was going, the only thing she heard him say on the way to wherever they were going was "I don't fucking believe this."

Their arrival at their destination was signalled by Leon turning sharply and almost bashing down an office door. By the time Selphie arrived Leon was midway through a rapid-fire conversation with the chief of police.  
"...you saying he's going for revenge?" Mickey was midway through saying.

"No, I don't know what this is. It's insane and twisted, but that's nothing new. The girl's not even her real daughter. What the hell is Prophecy playing at?"

"I don't know Leon but this can't be good."

"Yeah my thoughts exactly. I have to finish up the interview, can you get the morgue to send over the report. And I'm going to need those newspapers delivered to my office. I hate this, I hate that this could be a breakthrough... and I hate that it could just as easily be a red-herring designed to keep us off scent."

"That always was Prophecy's way, I'll see what I can do." Mickey picked up the phone on his desk and began to dial, meanwhile Leon had finally turned around and noticed a bewildered Selphie standing in the doorway.

"Selphie walk with me." He marched back out the door at a slightly less insane clip. Selphie fell into step behind him.

"What was that about?"

"You remember how I told you we had three surviving witnesses for the original abductions that we could actually locate?"

"Yeah... but what's that got to do with...?

"That number just shrank to two."

"What, the girl's adoptive mother?"

"Yes the girl's mother. She was one of the original victims. That was her witness protection ID no-less. I can't even remember the poor soul's original name. I only remember the assumed name because she was at Cloud and Tifa's wedding. In fact now that I think of it all three of the known victims were. I can't believe I forgot that. Regardless, Rikku Lamb is dead and Prophecy has her daughter. Adopted or not, that's quite the coincidence. And with Prophecy there are no coincidences. Just smoke, mirrors and rarely an actual clue. We can't afford not to investigate this.

"We need to find the other two surviving witnesses quickly. Their faces are clear in my mind but their names are gone. If I can get a hold of their previous names, we should be able to find their paper trail. Despite the disappearance of our case file, the paper trail left by witness relocation is a mile wide. I'm willing to bet that we've still got something that resembles a file on those two, it's just going to be hard to get to. Also, we need to check into Rikku's death. It could have been Prophecy making some kind of belated attempt at covering his tracks and if so, he might have finally slipped up."

Selphie just tried to keep breathing. The deeper she tumbled down this particular rabbit hole, the less she liked what she found.

They arrived back at the interview room door. Leon paused briefly with his hand on the lock. He turned back to face her.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asked. Were her inner misgivings that obvious?

"I'll live." She stated, her face set.

Leon unlocked the door.

* * *

Sora watched in equal amazement as Leon and Selphie strode back into the room and sat back down.

"What was...?" He started but Leon waved him off.

"Nothing to with you," He said. Sora was quieted. "Interview resumed at 3:28 am, I'm sorry about that Sora. It was important."

"No harm done, as long as it helps I guess."

"Alright, let's continue. So Kairi's family basically consist of you, Terra and Axel at this point?"

"You could say that,"

"Can you give us the contact information for Axel and Terra?"

"Sure. If you can get me a piece of paper."

Selphie handed him a scrap of paper. Sora wrote down the requested details and handed it back.

"Thank you, that will save us some time."

"Sure, I'm not sure what they'll be able to tell you though."

"Alright, back onto the subject at hand, does Kairi have any enemies?"

"Not that I know of. Not that she ever mentioned. Although I honestly don't think she's capable of making enemies. She's all sweetness and light. She's never said a bad word about anyone in her life."

"That's what I thought."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. I think that about wraps that up. Interview completed at 3:31 am." Selphie hit a button on the tape recorder and it stopped spinning. Leon paused for a moment before continuing.

"Alright Sora, as I said I'm going to be honest with you. We know who's got Kairi. And we know she's alive and will be kept that way. We just don't know where she's being kept and who's doing this."

"I thought you said..."

"Yes, it's complex. Kairi's being held by a serial abductor known only by his alter-ego, Prophecy." Do you have any questions?"

"A few. How haven't I heard of this guy before if he's this well known?"

"The last time he struck was around eighteen years ago."

"What was with the piece of paper stuck to my door?"

"Prophecy's calling card. His preferred method of telling us how little chance we have of catching him."

"Do you have a chance of catching him?" Sora's voice shook slightly.

"A better chance than he thinks." Leon didn't look too sure though.

Sora paused a second before asking the next question.

"Have I seen you on TV or something? You look quite familiar."

Leon's mouth smiled but his eyes remained solemn. "I'm what you'd call the poster boy around here."

"Why?"

"I'm just lucky like that."

Sora almost chuckled, but stopped when he saw Leon wasn't smiling. Selphie, Sora noticed, was frequently glancing at Leon with what could only be concern. There was just one more thing to ask.

"Leon, what's Prophecy going to do to Kairi?"

Selphie and Leon shared an unsettled glance. Sora's stomach sank, this wasn't good. Leon paused for a second, obviously thinking his next move through."

"You don't want to know. You really, really don't. A deal is a deal. I won't hold what little information I have back if you ask again, but think carefully before you do. I'm telling you, you don't want to know. Knowing won't change what's happening, but it will make it that much harder to carry on with your life for now. There's nothing you can do for her, other than stay safe. If you know, it'll make it that much harder. I'll wait for your decision."

Sora searched Leon's face for any sign of an ulterior motive. He found none. It was an impossible dilemma. Was it better to know why she had been taken and what was happening to her, or was it better to pretend she was alright. Knowing would hurt. Not knowing would hurt. In the end though, all Sora could think of were the immortal words of GI Joe. _Knowing is half the battle._

"Leon, what's Prophecy doing to Kairi?" Leon's shoulders slumped. He'd been hoping he wouldn't have to say this.

"He's destroying her. That's the long and short of it. He's changing her to match his own twisted version of the world. Not physically but mentally and emotionally. I'm not sure how he does it, but I know the results. When you get her back she'll be the same girl deep inside but you'll have to help her deal with what he did to her."

Sora paused for a second and digested this, then nodded.

"Sora, do you have a recent photo of Kairi? The most recent photo we have of her is the photo from her passport which is several years old."

"Sure, hold on," Sora reached into his pocket and drew out his wallet. From this he withdrew a lightly creased photograph and handed it to Leon. "Could I have this one back after you make a copy? It means a lot to me." He said.

It was a picture of Sora and Kairi standing in the doorway of their apartment. It was from the day they'd moved in together. The smiles on their faces in the picture drove home the pain of the present day.

"Yeah, I think we should be able to get this back to you." Leon said distractedly. Sora watched his eyes scan over the photograph. The scarred face visibly softened. Leon looked back at Sora. "The two of you look good together," he said at some length.

"That's what everyone says." Sora's eyes felt heavy.

"It was nice to meet you Sora." Leon got up and started to leave. Selphie, ever his shadow, followed. Leon paused half-out the door.

"Sora, there's one more thing. Don't try to go after this guy yourself. Last time he was on the loose we lost more trained men than we could replace. He may not kill his victims but he has no such compunctions about anyone else. He'll kill you without a thought, and that's the very last thing Kairi needs. Stay safe."

And then Leon was gone.

A while later Lieutenant Duck came back. He handed Sora his photograph and told him he could leave. It was only when Sora was outside the Trinity City police headquarters, staring up at the muted stars that he sat down on the curb and began to cry.

* * *

It was time. Time for the prisoner to learn her last lesson. It escaped the prisoner that there might be more afterwards. It escaped her that there was anything but the game. The game and the facts. Nineteen facts down, one to go.

He had broken structure last time, they had played four times. She still hurt from it. Not as much as her betrayal and guilt hurt her from within but none of that mattered. What mattered was that she stood on the cusp of victory. She had nineteen facts. The meaning of the facts did not escape her but her mad desire to mend her treacherous ways now outshone all. Maybe after this she would stop hurting. No matter how much he hurt her during the final stage of play it could not compare t the pain she already felt. The pain of guilt, of failure, of her wrongness. Or so she thought. She had in this matter above all a history of misplaced expectations.

He stood before her, his ubiquitous, obscene smile seeming especially bright in the flickering light. The tip of the riding crop flicked lightly against the palm of his left hand. His black garb hadn't changed much in all his visits. Absent at the moment though was the white tie. Maybe it was nothing, or maybe it was his way of telling her the gloves were about to come off. She had no way of knowing. The thing that made that mask so damn terrifying was the inability to read the human beneath.

"The game has changed. I will keep asking until you answer all my questions. Each wrong answer is one lash. Clear?"

"Yes," The prisoner was quick and to the point. She was a little worried about having to figure the last fact out on her own but she would adapt. She always had.

"Let's begin, what's your name?"

"I don't have one."

"What are you?"

"Your toy, an object to be used for your pleasure."

"Do I lie?"

"You do not, but the truth is subjective."

"Good, does anybody want you?"

"No, nobody ever wanted me."

"Now that you're gone, does anybody miss you?"

"Nobody misses me."

"Did anybody love you?"

"Nobody ever loved me."

"Does anybody remember you?"

"No, they've already forgotten me."

"Will anybody try to find you?"

"No, I'm not worth it."

"Will you ever be free?"

"No, but there is freedom in slavery.'

"Do you matter?"

"I do not, but there is meaning in the meaningless."

"What do you know about the world?"

"Nothing, but ignorance is bliss."

"Do you love?"

"My body can love, I cannot."

"Do you feel?"

"Only pain and lust. Everything else is an illusion."  
"Why are you here?"

"To be educated, to learn my place."

"Why do you need to be educated?"

"Everyone else lied, you never lie."

"Excellent, what is your sin?"

"Existence is my sin. Pleasure is my absolution."

"Why are you in pain?"

"Because I am wrong."

"Why are you chained?"

"Everything about me is wrong."

"Who am I?"

"You are my master and my teacher"

"Very good, now tell me, who are you?"

"I do not have a name." She was startled when she felt pain sear up her right leg.

"That's not what I asked, who are you?"

"I don't understand." More pain, but the pain was irrelevant. The prisoner could drown it out. What she couldn't understand was the question.

"Who are you?"

"I am... nobody." she tried. She was rewarded for her guess when he hit her again.

"Who are you?"

"I... I am your slave." She felt the blow coming before the whip fell.

"Who are you?"

"I'm no one of importance." Another vicious blow from the riding crop in response, the prisoner was getting worried.

"Who are you?"

"I am Kairi Lamb." He punished her twice for that.

"Who are you?"

"I am..." She trailed off in desperate thought. The riding crop stung the flesh of her breast twice. She bit back a yelp, if she cried out he'd hit her again.

"WHO ARE YOU?" He demanded. The prisoner was confused and tired and hurt and above all sad. This wasn't supposed to be like this. He had asked twenty questions. She had answered.

"WHO ARE YOU?"

She needed more time, there wasn't enough. She was frantic. The whip struck her other breast. And again.

"WHO ARE YOU?"

She didn't know, she really didn't know, why wouldn't he stop? Why wouldn't he tell her? Her flesh burned again and she howled in pain. And then without intending to, she began to sob and sniffle as the tears came again from that bottomless well in her heart.

"WHO ARE YOU?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" The cry burst from her lips before she could bite it back. The whip cracked again. But it didn't feel the same, it felt distant.

"WHO ARE YOU?"

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." The pain felt even less this time. The prisoner's world was contracting inwards, shrinking and shrinking until it was just a small space inside her head. The outside world in all it's beautiful agony vanished. No more could she hear her own sobbing, or the hum of the machine. No-one else mattered or existed. Her whole world was reduced to one image. It was a small girl, with shoulder-length cranberry tresses, tear-stained cheeks and sad, twilight eyes. The girl was scared, and alone. Painfully alone, it hurt the prisoner to watch as the girl turned one way and then the other looking for someone, for something, for anything. But all that surrounded her was darkness and pain and guilt.

The small girl turned to face the prisoner, her eyes brimming with so much sadness that the prisoner's heart broke. _Please, can you tell me who I am? _The prisoner was stunned, the girl's voice was very much like her own. _Who am I? Where am I? _The girl was directing the questions right at the prisoner. The prisoner wished she could say something, say anything to comfort the girl. But she couldn't. She didn't know the answers. The girl started to run, like she was looking for something she couldn't find. It was just her alone in the dark. _What am I doing here? What am I supposed to do? _The girl asked desperately. Then she collapsed to her knees began to cry. The prisoner cried with her. The prisoner realised that she was the girl. And she cried all the harder for it.

The Smiling One stood over his captive and assessed the situation with a practised eye. This was the moment he'd been working towards for the past four days. She'd lasted longer than he'd thought she would. Stockholm Syndrome and the final break should have onset hours ago. She _**should**_ have broken earlier. He deducted that the cause was a strong sense of identity. That usually meant strong familial and/or romantic relationships . He'd have to investigate to see if they'd come around to bite him on the ass. She had been a tough one. But like all those before her she had broken. All succumbed to the methodology of Prophecy. It was time to go to phase two. It was time to rebuild her.

The prisoner's world expanded outwards again slowly, to the realisation that something had changed. It took her a few seconds to put her finger on it, the machine had stopped. And the smiling one, he was behind her. And then she heard a click, and suddenly her wrists were free. She slowly stretched her aching arms and rubbed her shoulders. The smiling one moved back to her. She shied away at his approach but not as much as she would have not too long ago. He knelt down in front of her and began to remove the machine. She shivered and jolted as it was pulled from her, but felt overwhelming relief and freedom. Then when he was done, he went to her largely disused bed and took the blanket from it, he used it to repack the machine in his bag. She looked on in, well, she wasn't sure. The feeling didn't quite have a name, it wasn't apprehension, and it wasn't anticipation. But when he returned to her holding a new blanket and presented it to her she knew the feeling. The feeling was gratitude. The blanket was everything her old one hadn't been. It was soft, and warm and comfortable on the skin. Tears welled in her eyes again. This time though, they were happy tears. It was the nicest thing the prisoner had ever known. She looked at The Smiling One and he smiled back.

"Thank you," she said. It was all she could think of.

"You've been a good girl," He replied with all the sincerity his angelic voice could carry. And then he left her.

She was too tired to think about what just happened or why, so she hobbled over to the unused mattress. Her disused muscles screamed in protest but she payed no heed. At last wrapped herself in her new blanket and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Alright. I would have had this out sooner but it's been a busy week.

Firstly, to my reviewers.

_Animal Lover Bebe_- Sorry. It'll get worse before it gets better.

_The Story will Continue –_ Almost there. I promise, I just needed this last chapter before things really kicked off.

_Paradise Avenger_- I have no idea what I would do without your reviews.

Next, the story I going to shift gears now. Next chapter will have a bit more progress by our protagonists and... well more progress by our antagonist. After that, well you'll just have to wait and see.

Finally, I'll see you all next time.

Read, Review and most importantly: Enjoy!

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83.


	8. Resolve and Salvation

Hi guys! *Dodges rotten Tomato*

OK I get it, I'm late. Really late. I'm sorry. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I'm heading into exam territory so it might be a bit of a wait. It's late because I'm working through some heavy personal stuff right now. No deaths or anything but I've been going through a lot. That's all I can offer you in explanation and my most humble apologies.

* * *

The prisoner no longer had any idea how much time she'd spent locked in the dungeon. Then again she didn't have a lot of ideas about a lot of things any more. Ideas got her hurt. Her memories and the truth were dangerous As long as she was here thinking was ill advised. It was safer to accept his rules, his ideas, his law. Everything else was wrong. Including her. Especially her.

Except that might not be true. He wasn't hurting her at the moment. And that meant she'd done something right. Maybe. Or it could mean more mind games. That was beyond her at the moment. What she could treat as the truth was only what she could observe directly. And what she observed in this moment was that she felt well rested for the first time since she'd arrived here. He'd turned the light off and left her to sleep. And given her a blanket. Soft and warm and comforting to look at. Unlike everything else in the room. In fact she felt warm and comfortable for the first time since she'd got here, and as long as she shut her eyes she almost felt safe. It was a good change. For now.

She was wrapped in the blanket at the moment flat on her back. It occurred to her that now might be one of the few chances to inspect whatever damage had been done to her, maybe fix some of it before he had a chance to hurt it more. Though she doubted there was much fixable damage, it would all have to heal on it's own. If it got a chance.. She steeled herself and peeled the blanket away from her skin, letting the cool air kiss her pale skin. The prisoner rapidly concluded that she was in awful shape. She was thin, thinner then she'd ever been. Not quite skin-and-bones but unless her circumstances changed quickly she soon would be. Below her neckline she was a patchwork of purple and yellow, bruises ran up and down her emaciated form. And she hurt now that she thought about it. Most places ached with the echoes of his cruel beatings. Except for where the machine had had it's way with her, there she felt... wet?

A wave of revulsion swept through her at the thought, but the physical ache remained. The machine was a horrible device of torture. It wasn't supposed to leave her wanting. She wasn't supposed to long for it's insidious influence. Yet she did. In fact she could feel that she was wet with desire. And then she realised the horrible, twisted duality that the machine created. All the pain it caused was psychological... and self-inflicted. It was her own thinking and guilt that had meant it hurt her. Physically, it felt unbelievably good. And while she'd been in that chair, she'd come to accept unbelievable levels of physical stimulation as a fact of life. It became routine. And while it hurt her afterwards, it still felt good at the tie, until she had come to expect it. Now it was only noticeable by it's absence. In fact now that she thought about it, it was all she could think about. The ache. The desire. The need. It took all thoughts of pain right out of her head, while she tried to remember the intimate and many place the machine had touched her. She lay like this for several minutes, reliving the intense sensations burned into her memory. She sighed aloud as the desire rose within her, and discovered that she'd been absent-mindedly been stroking herself. She let her thoughts wander again. Wherever he tried to lead her thinking it always wound up back with the machine. Eventually just thinking about it no longer sufficed. Before she could fully comprehend what her body was doing her hand was already down where she ached and two fingers were doing their damnedest to fix it. It wasn't enough. Two became three. Her other hand dove for her clit, rubbing and tweaking. After that it was only a matter of several hot minutes before she began to contract and convulse, last, long, low moan echoing into the dark. Afterwards there was guilt. And pain. And then a long, uneasy sleep.

When she awoke, she became acutely aware that she was not alone. The Smiling One was here. Sitting at a small portable table, watching her. Across from him was an empty chair, a plate piled with the most delicious looking breakfast she'd ever seen set in front of it. She regarded the whole thing with a wary eye. Surely this was another one of his games.

"Come, pretty one, I won't hurt you. You must be starving. Why don't you eat? Afterwards we shall talk about what will happen to you next. But at least come and eat." This was definitely one of his games. And she would play because he was always right and because the food was good. And lastly because she wanted to feel, just for a second, like she might be human. She knew she wasn't, but she wanted to be.

So she went. And she ate, carefully and slowly to avoid throwing it all up., while he watched on impassively He had given her no implements to eat with, so she used her fingers. When she had licked herself clean the talk started almost immediately.

"How was the food?"

"Good thank you... Master." She remembered only at the last second that she was supposed to use the honorific. If he noticed the slip he didn't show it.

"Alright pretty one, you may have noticed that you have been rewarded."

"Yes, Thank you Master."

"Do not thank me, it is your doing. You have learned well. You have earned the right of choice."

"What?"

"What, _Master_ ." He corrected

"Sorry, Master. What is the right of choice Master?"

"The right of choice is the right to decide your immediate future. You get to make the choice."

"What choice is that Master?"

"The choice is simple. Either continue living with me the way you have until now or..." He held up a hand for emphasis, "Save yourself. Show me that you are worth all the effort I invested in you. Become my concubine." The prisoner mulled it over for a moment. Barely. This wasn't a choice at all. She would do what she did best and in return he wouldn't hurt her. There was no way she was going back to the pain. And a life of pleasure... well he had told her that pleasure would absolve her of her sins. Now that she had thought of it, it became apparent that this had always been his intention. Everything he'd said had been leading up to this. He'd also known she wouldn't say no. Everything he said was true.

"I am yours, Master."

"I am pleased to hear it pretty one but this is a choice that cannot be made by words alone..." He stood up slowly and unzipped his fly. "...show me that you choose to be mine."

The prisoner knew what he wanted. She also knew that she wanted to do it. There was a niggling feeling at the back of her mind that said she didn't have to do this, that there was someone else she belonged to. Who though? She had betrayed everyone except her master. She was unworthy of love and could not herself feel it, so why did it feel like she shouldn't do this? She forced it out of her mind. She wanted this. With her body, with her mind and with her tarnished soul.

He tasted of salt and salvation.

He watched her, stoic as ever, while she worked him. When he finished he sprayed his seed over her face and in her hair and told her to leave it to dry. Then he praised her for her choice and left her again, with a vague promise that she could begin her new life shortly. She went back to her mattress and lay down, and felt at the collar around her neck, dreaming of a day when she was no longer chained in this dark place.

She didn't have long to wait.

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew was that a hand was shaking her gently awake. It was odd to be touched in a non-violent way.

"Get up, it's time to leave this place, pretty one." The Smiling One's voice was at it's most angelic with a very obvious undertone of self-satisfaction. Though the prisoner felt dirty and sore and somewhat puzzled, she got up almost immediately. "Stand still," he commanded her. Then he walked around behind her. She heard the clanking the chain and then a small mechanical click. Then more clanking. Next came a hand on her shoulder and a warning to keep dead still. She obliged. There was a loud mechanical whine from behind her neck that she assumed was a drill or a saw. A couple of second of metal-on-metal screaming and the collar around her neck fell away. She waited until the whining stopped to rub at the chaff marks it had left in her pale flesh.

"That wasn't too bad was it?" He asked. She shook her head, her voice failed her. This was a happy moment. She was worth something.

"Now we can move you to your new quarters. I'd also like you to wear this." He held something up to her, it was a strip of red leather with metal studs embedded in it. Another collar, a nicer one. It even had what looked like a name-tag on it. The small metal plate was blank though.

"Yes Master."

He seemed to smile just a little more as he put it around her neck and fastened it.

"It looks good on you." It was a statement of fact on his part.

She sighed happily. She was getting out, she couldn't care less about the collar. Though it was beautifully light compared to the one from the dungeon.

"Alright, let's go."

With that, he lead her to her salvation.

Escape didn't even cross her mind at this point. Neither did the fact that there might be a universe where she wasn't… well whatever the hell she was.

Following behind him, she ascended the stairs that had taunted her for so long and left through a door that mere hours ago might as well have been at the north pole. And predictably and anticlimactically, they emerged into the glaring white light of... more fluorescent lights. Oh well, at least it was an improvement. Squinting in the glare as her eyes adjusted to the sudden illumination she could make out... doors. Many doors. About ten doors. Well twelve if you counted the double doors. She was in a hallway. The walls were white, the roof was white and the floor was green linoleum. Maybe. And in this hallway, or more accurately segment of hallway, she could see that there were many identical doors to the one she just came through. This segment of hallway was marked by two sets of double doors, big ones, at either end of the space. They seemed to have some heavy locking mechanisms on them. All this pointed to one thing. She wasn't alone. And no matter how much it went against her better judgement, she had to ask.

Meanwhile The Smiling One had moved two doors down the hallway and was busy unlocking another door. The prisoner shivered and hurried up behind him.

"Master?"

"Yes, pretty one?"

"The other doors..."

"Ah, come now pretty one. You didn't dream that you were my only guest did you?"

It was at that moment the prisoner realised she could hear something other than the buzz of the lights. It was one of those sounds that could have started just then, or might have been going since the dawn of time. It was distant and it was feint but it was most definitely screaming. And more than one person at that. The prisoner's blood turned to ice. Goose-bumps swept over her body. She suddenly wanted to be out of this hallway.

Fortunately, ahead of her she heard the click of a door unlocking. And the door The Smiling One had been standing in front of swung open. He turned and gestured her inside. She warily sidled up to the doorway, but soon found herself gaping in awe at the paradise that lay beyond.

It was an average living space with white décor. There was a bed. There was what looked like a kitchen. There was a door. A door might mean a bathroom. And everything looked comfortable. There were furry rugs and fuzzy bedspreads and cushions and chairs and everything she had missed. The prisoner broke down crying. It was all too nice for her. She sobbed. And she sniffled. And above her the Smiling One watched on.

When she recovered sufficiently, she turned and looked at him.

"Master, this is much too nice for me..." He cut her off.

"Which is fine, because it's not just for you, pretty one. Here, you go inside and settle in. I'll introduce you to your new companions in due time."

"Yes Master, Thank You Master." The prisoner said, relieved that she was not being rewarded above her station. She quickly entered the room, feeling fuzz and softness between her toes. Behind her she heard the door clang shut, leaving her perfectly alone in her perfect world of white.

* * *

Leon was frustrated. Incredibly so. Something was different this time. He just couldn't see what yet. He could feel it though, a slight twinge in his brain whenever he saw the cards. Something had changed. Something had definitely changed. Yet everything was the same.

So he sat with the twelve cards that signified all he had on Prophecy, and stared as if there was something much deeper to them that only he could see. This was bad. Don had just come back with bad news. Really bad. They were screwed.

The witnesses were dead. How the fuck had Prophecy done it? While they weren't looking he'd tracked down and assassinated three out of the only four people on the planet who knew what he actually looked like. The fourth witness was in hiding. Rightly so as it turned out. The worst part was the hit list had to have been taken from the police records. All of which were now missing. Fuck. Fucking fuck. FUCK. Something smelled awfully like rotting fish and he'd find out what it was if it killed him. And right then something within Leon snapped. The connection between his mind and his body broke, and his mind left for a simpler happy time where he wasn't the only hope of catching the sickest motherfucker on the whole damn planet.

* * *

Selphie was worried. About Leon. About the case. About herself. She was in this mess well over her head. She looked over at Leon again, he was still staring intently at the cards as if they held all the answers. Maybe they did.

He'd been like that ever since Don had come back with bad news in bulk. The three poor witnesses were dead. The worst part was the horrible subtlety with which it had happened: Rikku Lamb, killed in a tragic car accident. Camilla Paine murdered in a mugging gone wrong. Yuna Hope and her husband burned to death in a house fire. They all looked accidental. It was only when viewed in light of the present case that it began to take it's nasty shape.

Leon didn't improve. Leon didn't move. Selphie had to force him to eat and drink. He wouldn't sleep. Leon was somewhere else. His body was here but his mind was somewhere and possibly somewhen else. She watched for as he sat and meditated and deteriorated. On the first day it was weird but she let him wallow. It might just same them all. She wasn't sure what she could do for the case yet, but she knew what she could do for Leon.

When she arrived at Mickey's office the door was already open and Mickey was staring out the window. She knocked twice on the door frame.

"Chief?"

"Come in Selphie, I've been expecting you."

Selphie was surprised to hear it, but didn't make a sound. Instead she trotted over to one of the vacant chairs that sat across from Mickey's desk. When the chief swung his chair around however, she did gasp. The chief of police looked awful, his face was pale and washed out and there were dark rings under his friendly brown eyes.

"It's Leon isn't it?"

Selphie nodded.

"He's pretty messed up right now. This case means so much to him and he's just lost his best friend. Fucking hell. Selphie, I know he looks bad, but he's in there. I know it. You've probably come to ask if I can do something?"

"Chief..."

"The answer is you."

"What?"

"You're what I can do for him. I can't do anything else. If I take him off this case, or make any move to separate him from it, it will kill him. Never mind that you're the most qualified person for the job, right now you're the only officer I have that has any kind of counselling training."

Here Selphie moved to interject but he silenced her with a wave.

"Yes, yes I know. You're a criminal psychologist. You get inside the bad guy's head. Well on that long resume of yours it mentions that you did take a few counselling courses, particularly in relation to post traumatic stress disorder. I figure, even if it's just extra credit type stuff, you've got more chance of fixing Leon up then the rest of us."

Selphie's mouth opened and closed. A few times. She'd almost forgotten that she'd done those courses. She certainly had no idea how to begin on fixing someone as fried as Leon was now.

"Yeah I know it's not fair on you. Goddamnit I love Leon like a son and the shit life has put him through is simply not fair. The fact he kept going all these years is even more unbelievable. Now I'm asking you to try your best as a human being and as officer of the law to help him get through this. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, sir." The chief's eyes softened.

"Thank you detective."

Selphie left feeling every bit as scared and conflicted as she'd gone in. How the hell was she supposed to do anything? Leon was a zombie at the moment. She could almost see that he was constantly thinking about was the case. And with no breakthrough forthcoming he might just not recover. In fact that was what would help Leon more than anything she could say. A genuine breakthrough. Or a lead. Or anything in fact.

So she put her mind to the case. Her role was usually to figure out how the perpetrator thought, especially in cases such as this. Yet when she looked at the facts there were inconsistencies and irregularities on top of strange occurrences. Firstly there were the original abductions. She took the newspaper off Leon's desk that showed the pictures of all the dead victims. She had nothing else to go with. There had to be a pattern. Or something. Anything. But there wasn't. It looked random. They were all different races- which almost immediately ruled out unifying physical features. Well... they were all pretty, but if he wanted them for their bodies, then it would make sense that all the victims would be pretty. So she flicked through the pages to a map of abduction sites someone had leaked to the press. It was a mess. It looked like the original prophecy victims had been taken from throwing darts at a map of the city blindfolded. They might just have. Rich areas, poor areas, industrial areas, public areas and everything else. Yet the smattering of data points was too untidy to have been taken off a pre-made list. There was nothing she could take from any of this. She'd read the stories already, depressing and sobering accounts of a city in the grip of terror. Nothing she could use though. Any data she could have used was gone with the archives.

Come to think of it, how the hell had that happened? Police records were usually incredibly good at staying put. The archives department **did not** make mistakes of this calibre. If the records were gone someone would have had to specifically go through and delete all the relevant records. Which would mean that Prophecy had to have help from inside. Except that literally wasn't possible. She'd heard the talk all over the station since news about Vince had begun to do the rounds. Everybody was on edge, especially the older men who all seemed to have lost someone. And the newer recruits couldn't have been involved in the original abductions. It was a headache alright, though she decided that she'd explore the inside job angle with Leon later on.

What did she have to go on? One kidnapped adopted girl. One concerned boyfriend. Three dead witnesses. One dead cop. Two tarot themed notes that read "Fuck you" in shiny, superstitious letters and not as many words. A trail of blanks and mysteries, there was nothing tying it together. A lack of narrative. It almost seemed as if they were looking at more than one story. Actually...

Selphie looked. And she looked again. And the more she looked the more things fell into place. She went back to the newspaper and read through the articles again. It fell neatly into place. They weren't up against Prophecy. At least not the original Prophecy.

In the original crimes, Prophecy stuck to his methodology. From what she knew, he'd been completely unpredictable in every way except one. The notes. Leon had told her that during the original investigation, Sephiroth had deduced, as she would have in his place, that the original Prophecy was on an ego trip, he needed the police to know it was him so he could feel superior. Normally that was the undoing of serial offenders, but Prophecy was really good at what he did. He never messed up, and kept them guessing to the bitter end. What everybody else had failed to notice about this time around was that it had started when Prophecy broke structure. He'd sent that note to Vincent. The original crimes only used notes for the abductions. Why had nobody else seen this?

It came to her in a flash. They were being played. They'd been played. It was disgusting in it's brilliance. The original Prophecy case held a lot of sway in this town. There was a lot of anger that he'd escaped justice. Still, after all this time. This was because a lot of the officers working the case were directly tied to it. Their relatives were taken and so they signed up. And then Prophecy had killed off a few of his pursuers in a series of deadly traps. More signed up to avenge dead comrades. Everyone was angry, no-one was thinking straight. Even the Divination task force had been hobbled from day one, Prophecy had taken pains to ensure he had something on every one on the force. In fact she'd bet a lot of money that that was his pattern. His weakness. He had targeted the police force. And emotional people were not logical people. And illogical people have a much harder time tracking criminals. It was brilliant in it's depravity. And now, so many years later someone was using the Prophecy case as a smokescreen. These new crimes were similar, no doubt about it, but it wasn't the same criminal. She looked back at her list of recent events.

One dead cop. Why though? Well the obvious was that Vincent had been a threat to this new criminal. Some how. Perhaps more likely though was that the new guy was playing on Vincent's connection to the old case. Setting a bloody smokescreen in place. Everyone except her on the present case had known and been friends with Vincent Valentine. Combined with the note it immediately turned anyone associated with the original events into an emotionally charged mass of potential errors.

One kidnapped adopted girl. Did the new Prophecy actually want her for her, or did he want her because Rikku had adopted her? It was tough to say, either way the copycat needed an abduction under his belt to induce the proper amount panic.

Three dead witnesses. Where to begin? If this was a copycat, why did he care about the witnesses from the original case? Why kill them? And why do it on the quiet? The answer to that one seemed to be to dissociate it from the case. Could the copycat have done more incognito? Almost certainly. Though if so, why invoke Prophecy at all? The answer to that could only be that he was messing with someone close to the case. That sent a shiver down her spine. Who the hell would want to mess with Leon? Or Don, or Goofy? Or even Mickey? It seemed to be almost viciously personal but stupid. Four of the scariest men on the force and someone wanted to inflame them. It just made no god damn sense. The copycat had to have some serious balls.

Which brought Selphie back to the present. She had to tell Leon. This was news. It wasn't necessarily good, but it was something. First though she decided she'd quickly check to see if there was anything that might be vaguely associated in the recent crime records. She called up a grid displaying disappearances and homicides in recent months, she scrolled back a few days, around the time Kairi had disappeared. In fact there was Kairi and there, right above her was... Selphie nearly fell off her chair backwards in surprise. It was definitely time to tell Leon, this case was a much deeper mess than they'd imagined.

.

* * *

Sora didn't know what to do.

What would you do? A madman has everything you love in the world. He's dangerous enough to pose a serious threat to the police force, smart enough to evade capture for almost a year while staging an abduction almost every two weeks in a city full of people who are not so morally bankrupt as to just watch this happen. He'd have to be nigh invisible to get away with it.

You on the other hand are nobody. You've got nothing to do but sit back and let the love of your life languish in the clutches of this maniac.

The problem was on a fundamental level. Sora was a doer. And there was nothing he could do. And with nothing to do except wait he suffered.

So he made things to do. He started off by investigating the original case. A few quick web searches brought up a veritable treasure trove of the most depressing stories he'd ever read. He could only read on with mounting horror as accounts of torture, rape and sexual slavery began pouring out of the online woodwork. After he'd finished he wished he'd never looked into it. Now he knew what might be happening to Kairi he couldn't think about anything else.

He couldn't sleep. Images of Kairi screaming in pain filled his head and invaded his mind every time he closed his eyes.

Eventually he got up and went for a walk. The night air soothed him slightly. There was almost no one about on the streets and once he started walking he found he was able to think a little bit more clearly. Almost subconsciously he began to walk the the route that took him to Kairi's work place. She had to have been taken somewhere along here, maybe there was something that might point the cops in the right direction. Don had told him that they couldn't pinpoint where she'd been taken, every camera along the way that might have seen her had been turned the other way. There was no way that was coincidence but there was nothing that could be done about that.

Sora had some idea where she might have been taken from. He'd never liked that alley that ran between Twelfth St and Eleventh. It had always given him a bad case of the creeps. It was the way that everything went quiet as you lost sight of both exits and every step echoed hollowly. It was almost like being underwater.

The alley wasn't far away, it was well lit, fortunately but still fear rose in Sora's throat. He forced it back down and ventured forth, eyes peeled for any slight clue that might help.

What he found wasn't slight. Tire-tracks. There were goddamn tire-tracks in the alley. And they even lead in a direction. Although if the kidnapper, "Prophecy", had gone to the trouble of turning every possible camera away on his way in, he would definitely have done so on his way out. That wasn't all either.

His name was spray painted in big letters red on one of the adjacent walls. Underneath was some smaller writing, possibly marker pen. It read:

_She's mine now_

_-P._

Sora's heart stopped for a second and his blood turned to ice. Then slowly warmed to hot. The bastard was taunting him. Sora's fist slammed into the wall underneath the note. His knuckles came away bloody but he didn't care. This was about as personal as it got. And there was nothing he could do.

No.

Fuck that. There had to be something he could do. This prick thought he was invincible. That he was better than everyone who pursued him. Sora was going to show this asshole why you don't kick a man when he's down.

First thing's first. Sora got out his phone and took pictures of everything. The wall, the note, the ground, the tire-tracks, anything that might be helpful.

Next he set off for home. When he got up the stairs he paused for a minute,unsure which of the less than refined details of his plan of action to do first. He decided on calling Axel. Axel would know how to start. Or better yet Axel himself would get down here. He was a distant guy, but he wasn't heartless. He was a private investigator/freelance journalist by trade and this was his almost step-daughter. Sora had phoned him shortly after the kidnapping and Axel had said that if he needed any help whatsoever, he should contact him.

Sora dialled the number without a care in the world for time. Axel was probably on stakeout anyway. Axel was almost always on stakeout. Sure enough a familiar voice answered.

"Sora, what are you phoning this late for?

"Sorry Axel. It's... Kairi, I've got some news."

"Good or bad? I don't like bad."

"I don't know what kind of news it is."

"Well I'll help you decide, what's up?"

Quickly Sora related a brief summary of events since the kidnapping, ending with the writing on the wall. Axel was silent for almost a minute afterwards.

When he spoke again, his usually playful tone had taken a turn towards serious.

"So you got pictures?"

"Yeah."

"Have you taken them to the cops yet?"

"Not just yet.

"Well that's your next move. Right after you send copies to me."

"Sure."

"It's important that you do it tonight. Marker doesn't last long in the open, I doubt that message is more than a day old. They need to know now."

"Ok, gotcha. What are you going to do?"

"I'll see what I can find on this Prophecy character. Do some digging."

"Are you sure? I mean it doesn't sound like there's much the cops can do, I'm not sure what you could..."

"Sora, I'm the best in the business. Got it memorised?"

"Yeah Axel, I know."

"And besides you called me. You knew this is what I'd do. Now send me those pictures and head on over to see the boys in blue."

"On it."

"Oh and Sora..."

"Yeah?"

"Give Terra a call when you get the chance. Just leave out the bits where this guy's invisible. You know how he gets. With a bit of luck he won't try to get involved personally. I doubt it but it's worth a try."

"It's on my list."

"Promise me you'll call him."

"Yeah I promise."

"Ok good, send those pictures through and get moving. Also, stay safe kid. You're no good to Kairi dead, got it memorised?"

"I know, I know. Talk to you later.

The line went dead. _Good._ Sora thought. Now he had a concrete direction.

After he'd emailed Axel the digital copies of his pictures, Sora headed for the police station as fast as he could. On his slightly beat-up but much loved motorcycle he arrived in virtually no time at all.

So at about 2 am, four days days after Kairi's abduction Sora found himself standing awkwardly outside the police station. It was an imposing red brick building that had seen kinder days. Sora could see just by looking at it that it was a sad shadow of it's former self. Sora knew he should head inside but something stopped him. Maybe it was prudence, maybe it was providence, or maybe it was dumb luck because in that extra moment he spent outside the police station a car with sirens blaring sped into the lot and parked in such a way that it looked like it might roll. Curious, Sora watched as a familiar tall bald man got out. It was "Goofy" ,so what was so... Sora's mouth fell open as another familiar head of hair got out of the car. It just wasn't the one he was expecting. No way. What the hell was going on here?

"Sora?"

"Roxas, what are you doing here?"

Goofy looked utterly puzzled as Sora stood facing the person he'd least expected to ever see near a police station. Roxas' eyes were red and there were dark rings under his eyes. No. No. Not that. Not to them. Surely not. Please god no.

"Naminé... Naminé's gone" Then Roxas began sobbing into his shoulder. It was all Sora could do to wrap his arms around the smaller man in mute sympathy.

* * *

Woah. Long chapter. Definitely didn't go as I'd planned when I started writing it either.

Quite plot heavy for a chapter that as just going to be filler. Six weeks gave me a lot of chance to figure it out though.

This chapter is probably riddled with mistakes I can't see. Please let me know.

Let's see, what else do I have to say?

Oh Yeah. Review replies.

_Animal Lover Bebe-_ Unfortunately, Kairi believes. And those questions weren't easy to think up, but from memory they just kind of popped into my head.

_The Story Will Continue- _I don't think I'm particularly polished as a writer, but thanks for saying so. Prophecy could tell when she broke because he's had practice. The signs of a mental breakdown are varied and subtle but definitely accessible to someone who's seen more than his fair share. Or has he?

_Paradise Avenger- _I guess guilt finally got the better of me. I hope you this chapter was worth the wait.

When all is said and done I've got nothing left but my customary sign off.

So, Read, Review and Most Importantly: Enjoy.

If you have any queries, drop me a PM.

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83


	9. Friends and Companions

Gah I'm getting sloppy. To anyone who reads this, I'm damn sorry I can't write faster.

* * *

The interrogation room hadn't changed at all since Sora's last visit. Even the occupants hadn't changed all that much. Only now Roxas was involved which made everything feel about ten times worse.

Losing Kairi made Sora hurt everywhere and that sucked but at least Sora could still function minimally. Watching Roxas lose Naminé was like having your heart cut out with rusty spoons. Maybe it was the fact they both looked like an errant breeze could shatter them. Maybe it was the fact Roxas' eyes looked like they could drown you. Or maybe it was the fact that a worse thing could not have happened to two nicer people.

The core of the problem was that Roxas was a man with few needs and fewer demands of the world. In life Roxas only needed four things: Food, water, shelter and Naminé. Without Naminé, Roxas would die young and miserable. Nobody who knew them could say otherwise. Roxas had a strong spirit, but without Naminé, he was only half a person.

As far as Sora was concerned a world where Roxas and Naminé weren't together was no world he wanted to live in.

So a tired, broken Sora and the utterly shattered Roxas sat opposite a very concerned looking Selphie and Leon who had determination written all over his face.

"You must be Roxas," Leon said.

"That's right," Roxas replied in a tired voice.

"Well Roxas, I'm Leon and this is Selphie. I understand you already know Sora."

"Nice to meet you Leon," Roxas said.

"Alright, we need to talk to the both of you. And we need to know a lot as fast as possible. So I'm going to ask you some questions. I need you to answer as best you can. Afterwards you can ask anything you want to about the case and I'll answer if I can. Is that okay?"

"Yes," Roxas said faintly.

Wordlessly Leon produced the same recording device as last time and put it on the table. He hit a button distinctively marked with a red dot.

"State your names for the record please."

"Sora Skye"

"Roxas Keyes."

"Alright, Roxas, let's talk about Naminé. How long have you known her?"

"About six months."

"And how long have you two been together?"

"About five months."

"When was the last time you saw Naminé?"

"Five days ago, when I kissed her goodbye at the airport."

"Where were you going?"

"I was going with my brother to see my father who's currently in hospital out of state. Naminé had to stay behind because she had exams."

"What's wrong with your father?"

"He was going in for heart surgery. We wanted to be there in case... in case he never woke up." Roxas was barely keeping control of his voice.

"And did he wake up?"

"It was a close thing but he pulled through."

"Alright. When did you find out Naminé was missing?"

"When I got home. She hadn't been answering my calls for maybe two days which was unusual for her, but when I got back I found the door smashed in I called you straight away. That was about twelve hours ago."

"Was there any other sign of intrusion? Any sign of a struggle?"

"Well, there was broken glass on the floor, but I couldn't figure out where it came from. Other than that it seemed like she just vanished."

"In the event we're wrong about who we think is doing this, does Naminé have anyone who would want to hurt her?"

Roxas looked like he'd been punched. Sora took over out of mercy.

"I know you never met her but the concept is absurd. Naminé is possibly the sweetest, nicest, most endearing creature that was ever placed on this Earth. No one who'd met her could possibly have wished her ill." Sora placed a comforting hand on Roxas' shoulder.

"Okay that's good to know. Does Naminé have family in the area?"

"No, I'm all she has left. She doesn't have any siblings and both her parents died in a fire last year." Roxas said.

"What were her parent's names?" Leon was looking at Roxas intently.

"Tidus and Yuna Hope." Leon's mouth fell open. Then it closed. Then it opened again. Then it closed again. Selphie looked similarly shocked.

"What did I say?" Roxas said anxiously.

Leon looked physically ill.

Sora was puzzled.

Selphie took over.

"Alright, Roxas, how do you know Sora?"

"Oh, we're friends."

"How did you two meet?"

"We met through Ventus, my twin brother and Sora's best friend."

"This true Sora?"

"Yes."

"Alright Sora, why were you standing outside anyway?"

"Oh uh, yeah I came to show you something. I think I found where he took Kairi, and more."

"Really?"

"Hold on I've got pictures." Sora produced his phone, pressed the necessary buttons and handed it to Selphie. Selphie examined the phone for a few seconds before passing it wordlessly to Leon.

"Sora, do you have an idea why he might want to hurt you? Do you have any enemies?"

"No. Not that I know of."

"We need to know where we can find this. It's a long shot but he might have slipped up."

"I found the tracks in an alley that runs between Twelfth street and Eleventh street."

"Thank you."

"I also came to ask if I could help." Selphie looked up, there was steel in Sora's eyes. She wanted to say yes. But she simply couldn't.

"Sora, it's nice of you to offer, but official policy says we can't put you in danger."

"Can't I fetch coffee or something? I need something to do. Please. Anything at all." The desperation in his voice was like a knife through her heart. But she couldn't. Especially not in this case. They were dealing with a criminal who targeted the police. He'd kill poor Sora without a thought.

It was now Leon rejoined the conversation. He wordlessly hit the stop button on the recorder.

"Screw official policy. I think I've got a job for you Sora. Roxas too if he wants to help."

"Leon is that such a good idea?" But Leon was standing up and he rushed out the door with a general yell that sounded like "Wait here."

Leon came back ten minutes later with a bundle of papers under his arm. Everyone else looked up as he entered. Leon threw the papers down on the table and began leafing through them, pulling out photographs and other condensed pieces of information. A few seconds later, when he was ready he started slapping bits of paper down on the table so the other could see them.

The first two were photographs of Naminé and Kairi.

"Alright, I need to explain very fast. Sora, do you remember everything I told you last time?"

"Yes."

"Well we may have been wrong. Very wrong. The Prophecy case is very relevant here though. But this time around we think it's someone different. We don't know who though. What we do know is that so far we have two victims. Naminé and Kairi. I'm trying to figure out which link between the two because that could give us the method our perpetrator is using to decide his victims. At the moment though, there are simply too many possible angles. We need to narrow things down. First off there's the fact that they look similar. Do Naminé and Kairi know each other well?"

"Not really," Sora said after some thought.

"Well good, that kills that. Here's where I'd put my money at the moment though." Leon pulled out two more pictures and slapped them down above Naminé and Kairi. Sora could recognise one as Rikku.

"Rikku Lamb and Yuna Hope. Kairi's adoptive mother and Namine's mother respectively."

Roxas interrupted.

"I should probably mention that Naminé was adopted too."

Leon stared at him hard.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes it was in a letter her mother left with their solicitor. She only found out after they died."

"Alright, this just makes this link even more likely. As I was saying... Rikku and Yuna. Both Adoptive mothers. Both were also victims in the original Prophecy case and protected witnesses. Furthermore both are now deceased."

Sora and Roxas shared a glance. Sora was concerned and Roxas was puzzled.

"There's a third woman who fits this pattern," Leon slapped down another picture, this time a woman with shockingly white hair and red eyes. "One Camilla Paine. She was also one of Prophecy's original victims and she too is now dead. Beyond that we don't know much about her. What we do know is where you come in. The person who called in finding her body was one Riku Paine." Leon slapped down another picture, this time of a boy with the same white hair and intelligent green eyes. Sora went goggle eyed. Leon stopped mid-speech to shoot a look at Sora.

"Don't tell me, you know him."

"I saved his life once. In fact he and his sister were how I got together with Kairi. We were best friends until one day he just disappeared. What happened to him?"

Leon and Selphie shared a troubled glance, with Leon obviously mouthing "Sister?" before he turned back to Sora.

"Riku definitely has a sister? Do you remember her name?"

"Xion. Xion Paine. I'm not sure if this is good or bad, but she was definitely not his real sister. I remember Kairi saying that Xion had told her she knew she was adopted."

Here Roxas interjected.

"Did you say Xion Paine? You won't believe this. Before we moved in together, Naminé was sharing an apartment with a girl called Xion Paine."

Leon didn't know which one to look at in disbelief. Selphie was writing furiously in a notepad.

"Do you remember what she looked like? Either of you?"

"Oh... Yeah," Sora said

"Yes," Roxas said

Leon shot the both of them an expectant look.

"She looks like Kairi. At least she did. Except for the hair. She had short black hair. That was when I saw her last. Roxas would have a better idea if it's the same girl."

"It sounds like the same girl. I have a picture at home. I would have said like Naminé but it amounts to the same thing."

"Right, we'll need that. I don't know what the hell else is going on but my instincts say that if that girl isn't already gone, then she's in danger. Here's where we need your help. See, as far as we can tell, Riku is Camilla's son. Everything else we have on him is a list of minor criminal offences that marks him as either an associate or a member of The Crowns. Have you heard of them?"

Dimly Sora could recall the name from a few news reports. He shook his head and looked over at Roxas who was doing the same.

"They're a small-time gang who live and operate in the south of the city. Why we need you is these guys won't talk to the police. About anything. So if there was another potential victim, say Xion, which looks incredibly likely, Riku wouldn't call it in or take any warnings from us seriously. Which is why we need you to go and talk to him. We need to know. Do you think you could do that for us?"

"Yes." Sora said.

"Roxas, it would probably be safer if you went with him."

"Yes. I'll do it, I'd like to help."

"Good, Sora time is of the essence. I'm going to get Don to brief you and drop you off wherever you need to be. I'll leave how you do it to you, but we need you to talk to Riku fast. I'm also going to ask you to tell Roxas what you can about the case. I'd do it myself but in light of what's just fallen on our laps, we're going to need to look into other things fast."

Leon produced a card from his pocket.

"When you find anything, anything at all, call me on this number."

"We will."

"Good. Thank you for doing this. Both of you" Leon went to the door and stuck his head out. After a couple of seconds the door opened and Don walked in, motioning to Sora and Roxas. The two boys got up and left in his wake.

Leon sank slowly into the chair, his shoulders slumping. This was beyond anything he'd expected.

"We better see if forensics can spare someone to check out that alley."

"Mmm."

"Selphie, Which way is up again?"

"I've lost track myself."

"This new guy. There's so many questions. And when you pull any two puzzle pieces together and they breed more questions. This case is hell's own worm cannery."

Selphie nodded, looking intently through her notes.

"I want my damn friends back, they'd know where to go." Leon said tiredly.

"Don't worry, we'll get this guy Leon. We'll get those girls back. You'll see."

"I hope so Selphie. I also hope I haven't just killed the victim's boyfriends."

"I wouldn't worry. All they have to do is talk to an old friend of Sora's, how hard can it be?"

"It's not that. This new Prophecy seems to be keeping tabs on the boyfriends as well. I hope I don't regret letting them out of my sight."

Selphie shrugged and suppressed a shiver... those boys would be fine, wouldn't they?

* * *

The new quarters were nice. In fact they were almost too nice. The only problem was that there was nothing to do. There was food in the fridge. There was a table to eat at, a bathroom with a shower. There were chairs and a couch. And everything was soft and comfortable. It was warm too, there was a heater on the wall though she wasn't in control. Though she did have control of the lights through a bank of switches by the bedroom door. The best of the lot though was the bed. It was a huge double bed with plenty of blankets and quilts and after an eternity in a sleep deprived hell it was the nicest thing she'd ever seen. The prisoner hopped in experimentally and found herself wanting to fall asleep almost immediately. She resisted however in order to take stock of the rest of what she had.

Which wasn't much. There was a wardrobe across from the bed, but no clothes. The kitchen was stocked with utensils and appliances with the exception any form of knife. In the bathroom there was a full stock of hygiene products and towels. Upon discovering the last the prisoner immediately got the most satisfying shower of her life, turning the heat way up and scrubbing herself raw. She washed her hair and got out feeling a whole lot better about the state of affairs.

She hung the towel back up and went through to the bedroom where she stood in front of the mirror. Compared to when she's looked at herself yesterday, things seemed to have gotten much better. The bruises all over her body had now faded from yellow and purple to purple and red. She still too thin and too pale but breakfast yesterday seemed to have pushed her back over the danger line. Things were looking up.

As if on cue, her stomach growled at her. She hadn't realised it she was so hungry. The fridge upon closer inspection was stocked with ready cooked meals. She chose one that was descriptively labelled "Chicken + Vegetables" and put it in the microwave. When it was finished cooking she took it and a spoon and sat down at the table. It was surprisingly good, whoever cooked this had put effort into making sure she got to eat well. Or maybe they just didn't know who it was for. Either way when she was done she put the container in the kitchen bin and looked around.

_What now?_

It was a good question. There was nothing to do. The prisoner heaved a sigh and sat down on the couch. This was another test. Or another game. Here in her white paradise, all she had was herself. Maybe that was it, while she was here she was supposed to spend time reflecting or self-analysing. Her master had said she would have companionship soon. Until then she would have to amuse herself.

She looked around again but there was nothing to see. Everything was white. The only colour here was on her, and even she looked pale. There was nothing much to hear either. Except her breathing, the buzz of the fridge and the low rushing sound that indicated some form of temperature regulation. Nothing here smelled particularly strong. This place was almost a void except for one thing. Touch. The more she thought about it the better it felt. The soft covering on the couch tickled her and the more she looked around, the more she could see that everything looked good to touch. She experimentally spread herself out on the couch feeling it all down her back. She couldn't get enough. This was a sensual place alright. It subtly channeled attention to your body. Which could only mean, given all that had happened to her, that she was supposed to think about sex. Some more. And once she started thinking about it, she realised other parts of her were already ahead of her. She sighed, her new simple life would take some getting used to.

When she was done, and her body was finished convulsing, a now familiar shame set in. She didn't try to fight the feeling. As much as it hurt, even pain was better than boredom. Thoroughly tired she decided it was time to try the bed out. She let the warmth of the bed envelop her and slipped away into the comforting embrace of sleep.

The next few... well that was the thing. The prisoner soon found out that her new home had much the same effect on the passage of time as the basement which was to say it was impossible to measure. She was removed from it. If the microwave had ever held a clock it seemed to have been removed. All she had to go by was that she ate and slept, but couldn't tell how long it was between meals and sleeps. Life could only be measured by the seemingly endless cycle of pleasure and self-loathing.

She soon came to realise she was being watched. A thorough examination of her living space revealed several small holes, high up on the walls. If she looked from the right angle, these would glint. Which told her that there were almost certainly cameras in them. Which told her that her master wanted to watch her descent into depravity. Which was fine with her.

More time passed, and she became acutely aware of her want for company better than just her fingers.

Finally, three sleep cycles later, things began to change.

The first significant event to occur after her change of quarters, was when she heard voices from outside the door and then the mechanical click of the lock. Unsure of how to present herself she stood up trying to will away the slick of juices on her inner thigh. The door opened and The Smiling One walked in.

"Hello pretty one, have you been well?"

"I have Master."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now I have a surprise for you, I brought you a friend."

A slender shadow stepped out from behind him. It took all the self-control the prisoner had not to cry out. She knew that girl. Naminé, that was her name. Or it used to be anyway, assuming Naminé had been put in the same position as her. Naminé looked terrible. She too was naked and shivering, her body was mottled with bruises and far too thin. Her hair in particular, normally golden and radiant was matted, dirty and lost most of it's lustre. Naminé normally looked like the wind would knock her over now it looked like she'd topple all by herself. It was indecent and wrong that this had happened to Naminé. The prisoner could accept that she herself was a nasty, treacherous slut but couldn't believe that the same could be said of poor, sweet, innocent Naminé. The Smiling One had to be wrong about Naminé. He had to be. It shook her to her very core to see that girl in the same state she'd been in when she arrived.

Naminé seemed similarly shocked to see her and had a hand to her mouth. The Smiling One moved to the door. His movements gave no clue as to whether he noticed the silent communication going on. If she had to guess though, the prisoner would say he knew. She also knew there was an angle here that she couldn't see. She was beyond caring though. A truly friendly face held more value then her master could strip from her in a whole life-time. But she knew she was expected to refrain from any action to comfort poor broken Naminé until her master had left them. Speaking of The Smiling One, he was now standing outside with one hand on the door, ready to seal them back inside. Before he did though, he left them with a final incentive.

"If you two play nice, you might just earn a name each." Then, as was his wont, he left them. The door had barely slammed before the prisoner took the few necessary steps to reach Naminé and encircled her in her arms. She pulled the other girl tight to her chest and for reasons she didn't fully understand began to cry. In between her own sobs she could feel Naminé's chest rising and falling brokenly. She seemed equally affected by the moment. The prisoner felt Naminé's arms circle around her back and together the two broken souls shared the pain of their ordeal.

For a full five minutes or more they just stood there holding each other until by unspoken mutual design the moment ended and they took a step back.

"Kairi? It's really you isn't it. I never thought I'd see anyone I knew ever again."

"Me too... You look terrible."

"Have you seen yourself recently? You're all bruised and thin."

"Something tells me I'm not as badly off as you right now."

"Probably. You wouldn't happen to have anything to eat on hand would you? This place looks wonderful."

"There's food in the fridge, I can heat something up for you. Meanwhile you can get a shower if you want to."

"We have one of those? That's great news. I feel kind of... filthy after all that time in that terrible place."

"We do, through that door over there. We'll talk more when you're clean and you've got some food in you."

So a few unmeasurable units of time later, the prisoner sat at the table with a freshly cleaned and fed Naminé. The girl had wolfed down her food after emerging from the bathroom. Now she carefully set her cutlery down and looked over at the prisoner, indigo eyes glowing with pleasure taken from having some form of basic decency restored.

"What now?" Naminé said.

"I've been asking myself that since I arrived." The prisoner replied.

"Well we could talk. Maybe figure out why we're here?" The prisoner looked at her inquisitively, had the other girl been put through the machine? If so she must have understood what their master wanted.

"You mean aside from the obvious right?"

"Absolutely. I thought we'd leave the sex aspect until later. I just got my food down and though sex is not an unpleasant thought, I'd like to wait and see if the food keeps first."

"Sure."

"I mean maybe it's the look you are aware exactly how much we look alike right?"

"Yeah. Huh. You remember Aqua and Terra's wedding?"

"Yes, or at least I think I do. That was where we were introduced right?"

"Uh-huh. Well just after that, someone came up and asked if we were sisters."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was Aqua's sister I think. Can't remember much more about her."

"Well what's that got to do with anything?"  
"I don't know, maybe he thinks we're sisters?"

"I doubt it. He seems to know all about us. Even before he forced me to tell him about myself I got the impression he knew everything about me."

"Yeah I felt the same. I guess he just likes our look."

"That's probably it. Still it's some coincidence."

"What's it they'd say in a movie? There are no coincidences."

"I always hated that line. It sounds like it means something, when really there's nothing to it. It just sounds good."

"I don't know, I always liked the way it implied some kind of overarching plan to everything. Like someone or something is planning it all."

"If there is a plan to this, it's a crappy one. I never saw my life ending up here."

"I'll say. I'm still not sure I didn't just dream the past couple of days. What kind of sadistic person would actually plan and then carry through on something like this?"

"You know, I'm not sure he is human."

"What, he's some kind of demon or something?"

"Exactly."

"If you'd said that before all this I'd never have believed you. Now I'm not so sure."

"That's the thing isn't it. He can't be human. Humans can be bad, but they aren't like this. He'd have to completely lack a heart. It's nicer to believe we're the sex-slaves of some kind of demon than it is to believe that he's only a man."

"Gah, don't say that." The prisoner shivered.

"Say what?"

"Sex-slaves."

"Why not? I mean that's what we are isn't it? You know what, forget what I said about the food. No sense putting it off. We need to talk about this right now."

"Sure. Well there certainly hasn't been much of the sex. Not since he left me here anyway. And before that, he could have... taken me any time he wanted to but he didn't and he hasn't since. I don't know about you."

"No me neither. Aside from just once at the very start. I wonder why?"

"Maybe he wants us to want it."

"Well mission accomplished there."

"You too?" The prisoner said, perking up.

"Yes. I can't stop thinking about that machine. How awful and horrible it was, but also how good it felt. I... I had to... in the shower. I couldn't help it. What about you? You've been here longer than I have, surely..."

"Yes. I have. A lot. It's not enough though."

"I feel it too. I've been trying to ignore it. Mind over matter and all that, but it won't stop. I know I'll need to do it again soon."

"I understand. I've lost track of how often I've had do it myself."

"Is this another of his trials?"

"It makes no sense. He wants sex. Well here we are. We're willing. We're able. What's he waiting for?" The prisoner asked no one in particular.

"Maybe... Maybe it's not himself he wants the sex for." Naminé said hesitantly.

"Well then who?" The prisoner said with a sweeping arm gesture.

Naminé just stared at he pointedly. The prisoner looked evenly back. What was she implying? It came to the prisoner in a flash. _Really? Wow. Ok_. Well that explained why there was only one bed.

The recognition must have shown in her eyes because Naminé shifted uncomfortably. A blush sprang to the blonde girl's cheeks. Could she do that? With sweet, innocent Naminé? Well of course but... well... there wasn't really a good reason not to and Naminé certainly was very pretty. And it wasn't like she'd never done anything similar before. And she had been bemoaning the lack of better companionship. Now the prisoner could feel herself blushing as well. She realised a silence had fallen as they both considered their immediate future. The prospect hung heavy in the air between the two beaten souls until the prisoner couldn't stand the silence.

"So... uh... have you done anything like this before?"

"You mean had sex with another girl?"

"Uh.. yeah." The prisoner was clearly the more embarrassed of the two.

"Yes. Before I met... my boyfriend... there was a girl."

"Oh, right. Me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's just it sounds like it was a bit further back and probably a good deal more innocent." Which was somewhat ironic, given that of the two girls in the room, Naminé looked the more innocent.

"I can't believe after all this, he just wants to watch us have sex with each other!" Naminé said suddenly and angrily. "No offence or anything Kairi, it's not that I wouldn't have sex with you... I would love to," They both blushed and Naminé continued on, "but it seems almost insulting for him not to take a direct interest." She finished.

"None taken, I don't think that's all there is to it." the prisoner said plainly. "Most likely we have to earn his interest or something."

"Right." Naminé said. "So what now?"

"Well, I was thinking you look tired. I know I was when I got here. We have the most wonderful bed in the other room, maybe you should try and get some sleep?"

"Now that you mention it, I do feel absolutely exhausted."

"You look it."

"Kairi can I ask you a favour?"

"Uh... first could you please stop calling me that. That's not my name any more."

"Sorry. I didn't think that... well I just didn't think. I'm sorry."

"Don't mention it. Now you were going to ask a favour?"

"Yes...um... Please, come with me. To bed that is... and just hold me. I'd really like just to be held. I know it's not my place to ask and it's not fair on you but I'd like somebody to hold me. I'd like _you_ to hold me. To remind me of happier times and better places. Please." The prisoner didn't even need to think about it, the thought of actual, affectionate human contact was utterly uplifting.

"Sure. I can do that. I'd love to."

"Thank you." was all Naminé said before she headed for bed. Kairi took the plates from the table, put them in the sink and followed.

When the prisoner got to the bedroom, Naminé was already in bed with her back to the door, so the prisoner tapped all of the switches by the door to off, slipped in behind Naminé and pulled the covers over herself. Then she snuggled up to Naminé's back, draping her arm over Naminé's waist in the process. She felt Naminé press back against her happily. Together, feeling happy safe, they drifted off to sleep in their white paradise.

* * *

And done. The second half of this chapter took me an absolute age to write. I had the first half finished a week and a bit ago but the second half refused to come out.

I didn't realise where this was headed until recently but it looks like I'm going to be writing some F/F lemon into this story. It's not going to be all consuming or anything, and the story will have a happy ending, which will put everyone back where they started, so don't worry. If girl on girl isn't your cup of tea, you shouldn't miss too much if you skip those sections.

On another note, I think you can start speculating about some of the more mysterious elements in this story any time now. I've probably and inadvertently dropped some hints as to what's happening and though you won't get it all just yet there's much you should be able to guess.

Review reply time. I really should do these all by PM, but I'm utterly lazy. They stay here for now.

_Animal Lover Bebe- _Amen.

_The Story Will Continue- _Thank you again for your compliments. I did try to avoid the walls of text this time around. Don't worry about the story, I'm a bleeding heart romantic and good will prevail. Eventually. Mostly.

_Paradise Avenger- _Thank you. For Everything.

_RedSeaGlassStories- _Welcome to the fold. Thank you for you kind words and I'm damn sorry I'm so slow. I hope this makes up for the wait, at least partly.

Again. I'm sorry I'm so damn slow. That goes for you all.

Also to my silent readers... I know you're there. I'm not going to threaten to name you, or withhold updates, or anything like that. I will however implore you to let me know how you think I'm doing.

So with nothing left but my customary sign off, I bid you farewell for another chapter.

Read, Review and Most Importantly: Enjoy.

If you have any queries, drop me a PM.

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83


End file.
